Love Thine Enemy
by ShatteringDaybreak
Summary: Between picking out a career and escaping a Death Eater plot, Lily Evans doesn't have time for anything else, much less one James Potter. But he is determined to win her heart, whether she wants him to or not... *Now on indefinite hiatus*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Before this story starts, I have an explanation. This story had been posted before. I had 11 chapters up. But I think someone complained, and FanFiction took it down. So I took the opportunity to edit scenes I didn't like, and revise some things (because I hate revising and normally don't do it. Bad tink). I'm much happier with it, and I now have time to work on it. And I have some fresh new ideas. So to prevent it from being taken down again, I need to say something. This story has mild swearing (nothing too scandalous), violence, and mild suggestive themes. If this were a movie, it would probably be rated PG-13. If you're not comfortable with that, I would suggest not reading this. Or at least don't report it. Because I did warn you. For those of you who don't care, please, read on and enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K Rowling does. **

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_Beep…Beep…Beep._

Shut up.

_ Beep…BEEP…BEEP!_

Damn to the depths of hell whoever invented alarm clocks.

I reached out a hand blindly and swatted at the infernal contraption on my night table. Unfortunately, it went flying across the room and hit a wall, exploding into a million pieces. There went my second clock in as many weeks. I should really find a better way to wake myself up.

"Lily! Aren't you awake yet?" The nasally voice of my sister, Petunia, floated through my door, making me feel like I was being stabbed in the eardrums.

Her voice would not be my first choice for returning to consciousness.

"Go 'way, Tuney," I groaned, burrowing deeper into my pillows.

"Okay," she said quickly. Her footsteps faded as she clomped down the stairs.

Wait a second. Petunia never did anything that I asked. I lifted my head from my sheets and squinted at the light filtering through my curtains. If Petunia didn't want to get up, it probably was in my best interest to do so. I dragged myself from the comfort of my bed and immediately stubbed my toe on a leg of my desk.

"Bugger, bugger, bugger," I swore as I righted myself. My eyes landed on the calendar sitting on the corner. Why was today circled in red?

Oh yeah. It was September 1st. I needed to be in King's Cross to catch the Hogwarts Express. No wonder Petunia didn't want me to get up. She'd think it was hilarious if I missed the train taking me to my last year at Hogwarts.

Her inquiry had probably been forced from our mother, who, thankfully, had excellent timing. I wouldn't miss the train today.

I carefully picked my way to my bathroom, avoiding all sharp corners. I squeaked in horror when I glimpsed my reflection in the mirror. My red hair was a complete disaster. It looked like a particularly sloppy bird had tried to make its nest on top of my head. I snatched a brush from my counter and commenced attack.

Ten minutes later, after much pain and hair product, my hair lay in soft waves descending past my shoulders. I inspected my reflection in the mirror. Hair tamed, green eyes sparkling, slightly-too-skinny frame dressed in jeans and a sweater. I was always a skinny beanpole. I'd never managed to grow those womanly curves that Hestia, one of my friends, managed to pull off so well. I was sort of lacking in the feminine department. I was convinced that if I cut my hair short I'd look like a boy. Emmeline always tried to convince me otherwise, but she didn't actually have a body like mine. But I didn't really stress over it (unless Dorcas Meadowes was feeling particularly vicious). I snuck a glance at the clock and realized that if I wanted to arrive early, I needed to leave five minutes ago.

"Mum!" I called as I hurried down the stairs, trunk thumping behind me. I'd packed a week ago, so there was no stressing about having everything together this morning. "We need to go!"

"Right behind you dear," she said calmly, holding to door open for me. I felt a sadness pass over me as I passed her. This was the first year that I'd be leaving without saying good-bye to my father. He'd died of cancer the year before, while I was at school. I'd gotten permission to leave and spend his last few days with him. His death still smarted, but he was in a lot of pain at the end. At least now I knew he was in a better place. I pushed my unhappiness aside; I knew my daddy wouldn't want me to dwell on unhappy thoughts. If he were here, he'd smile and say, "Cheer up, kiddo! You're off to your last year! Shouldn't you at least try to look excited?" I smiled at the thought and took his advice. I was going to make my father proud this year.

Before Mum left the house, she called back, "Petunia! Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"Very sure, Mum."

Her condescending voice flared my all-too-accessible temper. "What, you don't want to see the freak off to her last year at freak school?"

Mum shot me a warning glare. "Lily…"

"What? She started it!"

"And I'm ending it," she said, pulling out the most used line in her arsenal. "Why can't you be the bigger person?"

"She's the one who disowned me because of something I can't control," I said stubbornly, throwing my trunk into the boot of the car. "I don't see why I should be apologizing."

And I honestly didn't. She hated me because I was a witch. She hated me because of who I was. If anyone needed to apologize, it would be her.

Mum didn't say anything, just started the car and pulled out of the driveway. I twisted in my seat and turned to look at the house that I most likely wouldn't see ever again. The cozy little place where I'd grown up and become increasingly smaller and more confining as I'd matured. I now knew that there was this whole other world out there, and I wanted to explore it. I wanted to leave the Muggle world behind and start exploring the depths of this wizard one, a world I'd only been aware of for seven years.

But while I was ready to start my life, I felt a constricting in my chest as my childhood home drew farther and farther away. That was the house my parents had brought me home to when I was born. That was the house where I'd learned to walk and talk. That was the house where I'd spent my days playing with Petunia, before we'd become so estranged. That was the house that McGonagall had entered to explain about who I was. I smiled as I remembered how out-of-place she looked, sitting on my parent's couch wearing her emerald green robes, her black hair pulled back into a severe bun. That was the house I'd come home to every summer. And now, a year from now I would be searching for a place to live on my own, a place to start making my own memories. But, for now, I didn't really want to let the old ones go. I watched my house grow smaller and smaller, until finally, we turned and corner and it disappeared from view.

The drive to King's Cross station was a boring and familiar one. I busied myself with checking over my summer homework. I'd completed the Potions assignment almost immediately, and I knew without looking back at it that it was perfect. Potions was a subject that I'd never had trouble with. I'd always been fascinated by chemistry in school, and felt that Potions was just a slightly more complicated version.

Charms was next, and I only needed to give that one a quick once-over. I was also very good at Charms. I thought the spells we learned were interesting and dead useful.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a class I was interested in, but not as skilled at. I made one correction before switching to Herbology.

Herbology was a class that I didn't like or hate. It was just…there. I actually thought that it was sort of like Muggle gardening on steroids. Gardening, which I strongly disliked at the best of times, that was made up for by containing sentient vegetation. I quickly skimmed my essay on flesh-eating plants, shuddering as I did so. The thought of a vegetable craving me for dinner was creepy, to say the least.

History of Magic came next, a boring and dry class that didn't capture my interest at all. I suppose that if a living teacher taught it, I'd be a little more keen on the subject, but the scratchy monotone of the ghostly Professor Binns was a certified sleep aid. The teacher could make bloody goblin revolutions sound as interesting as an old pair of socks. I really wasn't sure about my dates for the mermaid peace agreements (1673 or 1678?), so I just left what I'd written.

I reached for my Transfiguration assignment, grimacing as I did so. This subject was by far my worst. There was something about it that just flew over my head. I could understand Galpalott's Laws, but quiz me on Gamp's Elemental Laws of Transfiguration and I would soon be reduced to a gibbering wreck. No matter how hard I tried, I could not understand it. And this was a problem, since Transfiguration was a staple skill in just about every job in the wizarding world. Not that I really knew what I wanted to do.

Sure, I was skilled in a few areas. But that didn't mean I wanted to be brewing potions for the rest of my life. I wanted my work to make a difference in the world. I wanted to see that what I was accomplishing was helping people. I just didn't know what job specifically. I'd received a few warnings from Professor McGonagall, my Head of House. She'd told me that I needed to figure out what I wanted to do, and fast. I only had a year left, then I would need to find a career. Every time I thought about this, I would panic. What if I never found anything? What if I was stuck in a job I hated? What if I came home every night thinking, "I wish I'd figured it out sooner?" I didn't want to end up stuck in a rut. But I didn't know how to avoid that future. So I just went to classes, did my work, and hoped inspiration would strike.

"Honey? We're here." My mother's soft voice cut through my reverie. I stuffed my essay away and climbed out of that car, swinging my shoulder bag across my body. I hoisted my trunk out of the car and dragged it across the lot, toward King's Cross station.

"I just can't believe we're at this day," said my mother tearfully. I glanced at her in surprise.

"I'm just leaving for school again. This won't be the last time you'll ever see me."

"I know that," she sighed. "But this is your last year. After this, you'll be leaving the nest. You'll be all grown up."

"Technically, I'm of age in the wizard world," I pointed out. "So I'm already grown up."

Mum laid a hand over her heart. "Don't say things like that. It takes us old folk a while to get used to the idea." She stopped suddenly when we reached the barrier. "Your father would be so proud of you," she said, a fierce look in her eyes. "Making Head Girl (I fingered the badge in my pocket), all those good grades…I know he's smiling down at you from somewhere." Mum rarely got weepy. She'd cried at Daddy's funeral, of course. But after that she'd told us that he wouldn't want us to grieve. She put on a happy face and continued with her life. Underneath that tough exterior, thought, I knew she was still hurting. She'd loved my dad so much, and losing him hurt her more than she let on.

"He'd be proud of you too," I whispered, wrapping her in a hug. I buried my face in her wild red hair (which I'd inherited) and inhaled her scent of lemon and sage. She'd always smelled of home to me, and being enveloped in her arms brought my nostalgia back. All those days spent helping in the kitchen, all those hugs I'd gotten when I'd scraped a knee, those bedtime kisses…I couldn't reclaim them. I was growing up, and I was about to move on. I gave her an extra squeeze and stepped back. I thought I saw a glimmer of a tear near the corner of Mum's eyes, but she blinked and it was gone.

"Now be sure to write," she ordered.

I rolled my eyes. "Like I ever forget."

She winked. "You can tell me all about what James Potter's up to."

I groaned. "I don't want to spend any more time thinking about him than is absolutely necessary."

"Mm-hm," she replied cynically, hiding a grin.

"Good-bye, Mum," I said, waving as I turned toward the barrier.

"Be good!' she called, waving back.

I grinned. "Aren't I always?" The last sight of my Mum was of her rolling her eyes and smiling at me, her eyes twinkling. Then I plunged through the barrier, surrounded by darkness and silence for a split second before being spat out on the other side. I quickly moved out of the way, knowing that if I didn't I would most likely be barreled down (and trust me, I speak from experience). A train attendant helped me slide my trunk into the luggage car. I took my shoulder bag and left to find a compartment.

While I wasn't here as early as I'd have liked to be, the platform was not that crowded. I claimed a compartment and waited in the doorway for my friends.

"Dammit, Roberts! Watch where you're going!" I heard an indignant voice call. "And don't think I didn't know what you were doing!"

I smiled. A curvy, petite girl with raven black hair was heading this way. Her blue eyes spat fire and she strode with purpose. She was the kind of girl you got out of the way for. Hestia Jones.

"Trouble?" I asked, beckoning her into the car.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," she said airily, waving her hand in the air.

"I know. I heard,"

She grinned, then her expression soured. "Roberts was trying to sneak a grope again."

I pulled a face. "Is he ever going to give up?"

She snorted, "Not likely. If he was cute, I'd be flattered. But he sort of looks like he's taken a brick to his face."

I thought for a moment. Roberts did, indeed, resemble a pug in most ways. Short, squashed face, followed you everywhere… "Maybe we should start calling him The Pug."

Her eyes lit up. "I love it! The Pug."

"What about a pug?" asked a confused voice. A sandy brunette stood in the doorway, her nose wrinkled in puzzlement. Her brown eyes looked around curiously, soaking in every detail. Thin, wire-framed glasses balanced on her thin nose, constantly in danger of sliding off. She pushed then up and took a seat next to me. Emmeline Vance had arrived.

"Roberts," Hestia explained. "We're calling him The Pug."

"That's not very nice," said Emmeline softly.

"Aw, c'mon Em," drawled Hestia. "He's a pervert. He was trying to grope me when he tripped in the hall five minutes ago."

Emmaline's eyebrows bunched. "Never mind, then."

"So," I said, "How were your summers?"

"Amazing!" cried Hestia, leaning toward me in excitement. "My family went to Italy. I got to spend my days on the prettiest beaches!"

"I thought you looked tanner," said Emmeline.

"Yup," grinned Hestia. "I spent most of my summer perfecting it."

"What about you Em? What did you do?" I asked.

She shrugged. "You know. The usual. Staying at home, doing homework, reading. That sort of stuff."

"Anything new I'd like?"

"I did pick up a good Muggle classic," she said, her eyes lighting up. Emmeline loved books with a passion. She visibly brightened whenever they came up in conversation. "Ever read _Pride and Prejudice_?"

"I've heard of it, but I haven't read it."

She pulled a novel out of her bag and passed it over. I tucked it into my bag and vowed to start it later tonight.

"What about you, Lily? What did you do?"

I grinned and pulled something out of my pocket. "Just argued with Petunia, did homework, avoided Snape," I faltered a little at the last statement. "Anyway," I said, clearing my throat and shaking my head, "I also got this." I opened my hand to reveal a shiny badge inscribed with the school crest. On top of that lay the letters "HG". It was my Head Girl badge.

Squeals erupted in the compartment. "We knew you'd get it!" cried Hestia, beaming at me.

"Congratulations," said Emmeline, smiling brightly. They'd both insisted that I'd receive the badge, but I hadn't really believed them.

"You were right," I admitted, knowing this moment would come eventually.

Hestia brought a hand up to ear and leaned closer. "I'm sorry? I didn't hear you."

I rolled my eyes. "You were right," I called into her ear, a little louder than necessary.

She winced and pulled back. "No need to yell," she said in an injured tone, but her eyes twinkled, letting me know that she wasn't really serious.

Emmeline broke in. "Don't you have to be at the prefects meeting soon?"

"You're right," I said, checking my watch. "I should probably go, though."

"Good luck!" they called, waving me out of the compartment. I checked my bearings, then turned left to get to the front compartment. As I walked, I wondered who the Head Boy was. Remus Lupin probably wouldn't be the best choice; he really couldn't control his friends. No Slytherins, hopefully. They tended to abuse their positions, plus, they were just unpleasant to be around. My bet was on a Ravenclaw. Hufflepuffs tended to be too nice to their friends when they were caught. Maybe Howard Boot? He was smart, tough, and I knew he would take the job seriously. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd gotten the position.

I walked right past the Head's compartment as I thought. I nearly bumped into the door leading to the very front of the train before I realized my mistake. I doubled back and stopped in front of the sliding doors.

Well, this was it. The moment of truth. I pulled the doors open…

And froze.

No. Hell no.

"Are you effing kidding me?"

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**A/N: Please review! It makes my day when I receive feedback.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I was going to do weekly updates, but I got impatient.**

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James Potter looked up from his seat in the compartment. His hazel eyes peered up at me from behind his crooked glasses, running up and down my body. I fidgeted uncomfortably, searching for some sign that showed me this was just some joke. But there was the badge, pinned to the front of his forest green shirt. He rumpled his already tousled, jet-black hair and smirked.

"Not expecting me, huh, Evans?"

I pointed to the badge he was wearing. "Did you steal that?"

His brow furrowed in confusion, and he looked down at his chest. "What?" He caught sight of where I was pointing. "Nope," he said, popping the "p". He grinned. "You really are stuck with me."

"This can't be happening," I groaned, collapsing down on the nearest seat. Which, unfortunately happened to be right next to Potter.

"Oh, but it is, Evans. And I am thoroughly enjoying this," he said, leaning back. "I have a bet with Sirius going, you know. He thought you would pull a tantrum, screaming, the whole works. I disagreed." He sat up suddenly, looking at me eagerly. "I thought you'd be a little more…subdued." He looked me up and down once again, and I repressed the urge to smack him.

I ignored him (and everything he was implying), and instead focused on calming down. Potter wasn't even a prefect! How was he Head Boy? And who in their right mind would think he'd be suitable for the position?

"And of course, I am so looking forward to the Head dorms."

Damn. I'd forgotten about the dorms. We would have to live with only one wall between us for the year.

"There has to be some mistake," I insisted, sitting up.

"Nope," he said cheerfully. "No mistake. My letter's right here." He pulled a rumpled piece of paper from his pocket, and my heart sank as soon as I saw Dumbledore's signature.

"Dammit," I groaned, stretching the word out. I sank back down on my seat and covered my face with my hands.

"Ah, ah, ah," James scolded. "Our Head Girl can't go around cursing, now, can she Evans?"

I swore at him using a bit more colorful language.

He laughed. "I didn't even know you knew words like that Evans. I'm impressed."

I suddenly sat up and fixed him with a stony glare. "I don't know how you got this position, and frankly, I'm past the point of caring right now," I lied. "Just stay out of my way. You are not going to mess this up for me."

He opened his mouth to retort, but one venomous glare from me had him shutting up and sitting back.

It was a miracle. The boy _could_ be trained.

"Now, are we going to organize the patrols or what?" Of course, as soon as I said that, the compartment doors slid open and prefects started trickling in. I stifled a shriek of frustration; why couldn't I get anything right? We hadn't actually done anything!

"Alrighty then," called James, springing up from his seat. He clapped his hands together and said, "So, er, what exactly do we do at these things?"

"Oh, right," I said. "I forgot you hadn't actually been a prefect." That earned a few chuckles.

"First time for everything, Evans," he replied, not even turning around to look at me.

"Well, how about you let the one who knows what they're doing take care of things?"

"Why, thank you for handing the reigns over to me," he said, feigning surprise.

The prefects were watching us banter like we were a particularly interesting tennis match.

"You know that's not what I meant," I said darkly.

"Well, Evans, you're going to have to be more specific if you want me to understand," he replied innocently.

I ignored him. "Welcome to all new prefects, and welcome back to the old ones," I said, addressing the others in the compartment. Startled, they straightened up and tried to pretend that they hadn't just been hanging onto our every word. "Now, I know that you veterans aren't going to want to hear this again, but just bear with me. Your responsibilities will be to patrol the halls, catch troublemakers," my eyes wandered to Potter at this; those who caught me snickered, "and take points away when you do. We'll also plan school events and schedule Hogsmeade trips. There's really nothing to it. But please, make sure you don't abuse your position," this was aimed at the Slytherins, who scowled mightily at me, "because I _will_ find out. Now then, any questions?"

A new Hufflepuff raised his hand. "How'd you get to be Head Boy?" This was addressed to Potter.

"Dunno." He shrugged. "Good grades, role model, excellent Quidditch player, dashing good looks…" He winked. "Take your pick."

I rubbed my temples. "You lot can go now. You just need to patrol the corridors for a bit, the veterans will show you how."

They scrambled out, sensing a row breaking out between Heads. After the last prefect had rounded the corner, I rounded on Potter.

"Is this some kind of joke to you?" I hissed, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Because I swear, if you spend the whole year fooling around and abusing your position, you'll spend half of it in the hospital wing."

He smirked lazily and tutted at me. "Now, now, Evans. It wouldn't do for the Head Girl to be seen attacking the Head Boy."

I grinned wickedly and leaned in close. "Then I'll make sure no one sees."

He gulped softly, but before he could get out a retort, I was gone.

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Unfortunately, I couldn't escape the Marauders. James Potter's best friend, Sirius Black, was leaning in the doorway of our compartment. Known as the fittest male in Hogwarts by his fan club, he was known as the most detestable male to me and my friends. I could see what the other girls saw, of course. I wasn't dead. He had shaggy, black hair that every other bloke would definitely not be able to pull off. His grey eyes were usually full of mischief, but his tall, lanky frame was usually set in some sort of swagger or strut, which is why we hated him. He was an arrogant playboy. Not someone we liked to associate with.

I pushed past him roughly and reclaimed my seat next to Emmeline.

"Down, Evans."

I used more colorful language, to Hestia's amusement and Emmeline's shock. Black's eyes widened.

"Didn't know you knew words like that. I take it you found out that our beloved Prongs is Head Boy?"

Damn the Marauders and their stupid nicknames. "Yes," I muttered through gritted teeth. "Which reminds me," I said, brightening up, "You lost the bet."

"Dammit. No temper tantrum?"

"No. More like frustrated ire. Though there was some cursing involved."

He perked up. "You hexed him?"

"No. I meant swearing. And you sound awfully eager to hear your best mate was hexed."

"Oh, that part doesn't excite me. Throwing hexes is part of a temper tantrum, meaning I win."

I stared at him. "You set terms?"

He rolled his eyes. "Duh, Evans. You always set terms when betting."

This conversation was lasting longer than I'd like. "What are you even doing here, Black?"

"Just paying a visit to your stunning friend Jones here."

Hestia bristled at his words.

"I don't think she enjoys your company, Black," I remarked scathingly. "You might want to leave before she castrates you."

Hestia grinned as Black winced. "You know, Lily, I hadn't thought of that. Thank you for the idea."

"My pleasure."

"Alright, alright," Black said, lifting his hands in surrender. "You win, I'm leaving." He swaggered away, but not before giving Hestia a lewd wink.

She shuddered as he disappeared from sight. "Ugh. He makes me feel so disgusting."

"You're not alone," said Emmeline. "He makes me feel like that too."

"But he doesn't ever look at you!" cried Hestia.

I caught a flash of…something in Emmeline's eyes before she replied, "But just being near him gives me the heebie-jeebies."

I laughed. "Is that a technical term, Em?"

She glared at me. "You know what I mean."

"I do, and I concur. But can we talk about something other than Black?"

"My pleasure. So Potter's Head Boy?"

I shot Hestia a look. "Can we talk about something that doesn't involve the Marauders?"

"Fine. Any cute boys you're eyeing?"

I sighed. "You _really_ want to talk blokes, huh?"

She nodded.

"I haven't really been looking."

"Come on, Lily! You've hardly dated at all! You need to start looking, like, now!"

"Not everyone wants a boyfriend as badly as you," I said dryly. "Besides, it's not like you ever date them anyway. You obsess over a bloke, but don't even end up talking to him."

She chose to ignore the last part of my statement. "I'll just have to look for you. And what about you, Em? Anybody caught your eye?"

I expected a sarcastic quip from her like every other year, but instead, she turned bright red and looked down at her lap, mumbling a quiet, "No."

"There is!" Hestia lit up like a little kid at Christmas. "Who?"

"No one," Emmeline insisted, still not looking up.

"Will you please tell us?" pleaded Hestia, her bottom lip sticking out.

"No," said Emmeline, stubbornly refusing.

"Hestia," I cut in, "If she doesn't want to tell us, then we need to respect that."

Hestia's face turned into one of a child who presents had been stolen, but she relented. "Fine," she grumbled. "But I _will _find out."

"Not bloody likely," muttered Emmeline, who buried herself behind a book.

Hestia and I started a conversation regarding her trip to Italy (lots of sand, sun, and boys), interrupted only by our changing into robes. We ceased talking as the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station. I smiled fondly as the lights from the small village twinkled brightly at me, reminding me of trips past. My stomach growled as I pictured the psychedelic interior of Honeydukes, and my mouth watered as I recalled the warm, buttery taste of foamy butterbeer. I really needed to get off this train and eat.

Before my stomach decided to start nibbling on itself.

I heard the loud, ringing call of Hagrid as he shepherded the first years over to the boats. I stuck around a few more minutes to make sure that they all ended up where they were supposed to go (although to miss Hagrid you would have to be blind and deaf), and noted with annoyance that Potter wasn't there to help. Typical.

I turned to the horseless carriages and gave an almighty gasp. For the horseless carriages were no longer horseless. A black, skeletal equine figure stood before me, gazing at me with its cloudy eyes.

Was this some kind of freakish nightmare? Why hadn't these been here before?

"You can see them too." It wasn't a question, but a statement. I turned to find a serious James Potter behind me, staring at the monstrosity before me.

"Where did they come from?" I asked, not in the mood to argue with him.

"They've always been there. You just haven't been able to see them before. Now, can we continue this conversation in the carriage? I'm starving."

I climbed up and took a seat, keeping an eye on the…things…pulling the carriage.

"They're thestrals," he said, answering my unasked question. "You can only see them if you've seen someone die."

Tears threatened to leak from my eyes as I remembered my father's dying moments. One minute, he'd smiled weakly at me and squeezed my hand. The next…he was an empty shell, a body without a soul.

"I saw an Auror die. My dad, he was on a mission, and something went wrong. He was brought to our house, but it was too late. He died on our living room floor. There one minute, gone the next." He spoke while staring at the wall next to my head.

"Why—why are you telling me this?" I asked shakily, trying to discreetly wipe my eyes.

"Because you're panicked. And someone talking to you always helps. No one helped me when I discovered them last year. Plus," he said, smiling suddenly and leaning back, "it got me a civil conversation with you."

"You're a real prat, Potter. And you can go to hell," I spat, temper flaring. "I saw my _father_ die, you bastard!"

His expression turned to panic and he swore. "Bloody hell, Evans, I'm sorry."

"Sorry won't bring him back," I muttered bitterly. The remaining time in the carriage was spent in a stony silence. I stormed out as soon as we reached the castle, ignoring his shouted pleas.

I couldn't believe it. He'd been so serious about what he was talking about. For a second, I'd thought he understood me, knew where I was coming from. Then he tells me he only brought it up to have a conversation without yelling. Well, his plan hadn't worked, had it?

I knew one thing for sure as I slipped into the Great Hall. Potter was a narcissistic tosser. And he would never, ever understand me.

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**A/N: Please review! I makes my day whenever you guys give me feedback. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So sorry for the late update. I lost power for four days last week, so I didn't have the ability to upload the next chapter. **

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These first years were not the most intelligent group we've gotten. It took me fifteen minutes to corral them to the common room. I collapsed into a squashy armchair and announced, "I was not that stupid or short when I was a first year.'

"Uh, honey?" called Hestia, sprawled out on the couch, "You were that short. Until that growth spurt starting in fourth year. That's when you caught up with Emmeline."

It was true. I'd been Hestia's height until one year I'd shot up, stopping an inch or two taller than Emmeline. My muscles had been sore nearly every day for two years.

"And were you that stupid?" Hestia continued. "No comment."

I threw a pillow at her and grinned wickedly when it smacked her in the face.

"Lily?" asked Emmeline, who was curled up in the chair opposite me. "Aren't you supposed to be in the Head dorms?"

Bugger. "Yes I am." I bolted up from my spot and dashed to the portrait hole, calling, "See you later!" behind me.

Okay. My Hogwarts letter had said that the Head dorms were behind the portrait of a white cat in a seventh floor corridor. So it shouldn't be too far away…

I turned a corner and nearly ran into Potter, who was standing in front of a portrait of a sleek, snowy cat grooming itself on a tree branch.

"I was wondering whether you were going to show up," remarked Potter, raising an eyebrow.

"You could've gone in without me," I said huffily, straightening out my robes.

"Didn't want to. It seemed rude."

Hmph. He was just trying to make up for his tactless remark earlier. Well, it wasn't working. "What's the password?"

"I think we set it," said Potter, running a hand through his hair thoughtfully. I cursed myself for not remembering that.

"How about _Aeternus Leo_?" I suggested.

He screwed up his nose. "What the hell does that mean?"

I sighed. "It's Latin for everlasting lion."

He nodded, pretending he'd known that all along. "Of course. I like it. But what's with the Latin?"

"It sounds cooler."

"Wait." He paused. "Isn't the school motto in Latin?"

"You didn't know that?" I asked scornfully, disdain dripping from my voice.

"Not all of us spend all our time with their noses shoved in books," he replied, rolling his eyes. "Some of us actually have social lives. Now what does the motto mean?"

I gave him a death glare, but I couldn't resist answering. "Let's see: 'Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus'. That means 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon'."

Potter's face was blank. "Good advice, but I'm not sure it's the best motto."

"As enjoying as this is," I said dryly, pretending to examine my nails, "I'd really like to go to bed sometime tonight, so can we go ahead and set the password?"

"Don't get your panties in a twist," muttered Potter, turning to the portrait. He cleared his throat and said clearly, "_Aeternus Leo_."

The cat looked up from its grooming and gave an approving nod, swinging outward. A doorway that had been previously concealed appeared, and we strode through.

The common area was a mini replica of the Gryffindor common room. There was a cluster of chairs near the fireplace, to the left of the door. A few desks and tables were to the right, next to some large windows. Two doorways stood across from us. The door to the left had a nameplate with the name Lily Evans on it in loopy writing. The name plate on the door to the right had Potter's name on it in masculine block letters.

I was heading to my dorm when Potter called out, "I'm sorry."

I froze. Since when did Potter apologize?

He continued, taking advantage of my speechlessness. "I wasn't thinking when I said that. I know we were discussing a serious topic, but I just wanted to lighten the mood. I said that stupid thing and now I'm sorry."

I turned around slowly to find Potter staring at me. "Apology accepted," I said stiffly.

He broke out into a grin. "Excellent."

"This does not mean that we're on good terms," I said sternly, leveling a patented Evans glare at him. Unfortunately, it doesn't deter the one person it was designed for.

"Aw, c'mon, Evans! Can't you admit, for once, that you may be wrong?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked cautiously.

"Me! Can't you admit that you may have misjudged me?"

"I usually admit I'm wrong when I find evidence to the contrary, Potter," I remarked coolly. "I haven't yet found anything that tells me that you're not a bullying prat."

His face turned red as his expression darkened. "That's because you haven't really been looking." He strode past me and into his dorm, slamming the door shut behind him.

I blinked a few times. That was weird. Since when did Potter ever care about what people thought of him?

At about the same time he started apologizing, I guess.

I shook off my thoughts of Potter and went to my own dorm. It was a spacious, airy room, with windows covering the wall opposite the door. A dresser leaned against the wall to my left, and a large, four-poster bed hugged the wall to the right. A door stood next to the dresser, leading to what I assumed was the bathroom. My trunk sat at its foot, and I rummaged around in it to find my pyjamas. After throwing my bag in a corner and changing my clothes, I collapsed into my bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

I awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming in through the large windows. I squinted and checked the clock on the nightstand. I had an hour until I needed to be at breakfast. Perfect.

I pushed open the door and gasped. I had my own perfect's bathroom, huge tub included. I gazed at it, very tempted, but I took a quick shower instead. I dried my hair at the sink, then attacked it until it behaved. I applied makeup, dressed, then headed down to the Great Hall. Hestia and Emmeline were already waiting for me.

"So?" asked Emmeline.

"How is it?" asked Hestia.

"Beautiful," I sighed as I grabbed a muffin. "And I have my own mini-version of the prefects' bathroom."

"You'll let us use it?" Hestia begged.

"Of course."

"How was Potter?" asked Emmeline.

"Annoying," I replied automatically, then added, "But get this. He apologized to me last night."

"He did?" said Emmeline, eyebrows shooting up. "For what?"

"He said something really tactless on the carriage," I said, being purposely ambiguous. I didn't want them to know about the thestrals. Not yet. "He apologized later."

"Uh, Lily? Hate to break it to you," said Hestia, "But Potter's been apologizing for longer than you think."

"How do you know?" I asked, slightly baffled.

"I pay attention to cute blokes. Including Potter and Black. Now," she added, seeing our horrified faces, "I don't like them, but they do look fine. Potter's been apologizing since last year."

I was still skeptical. "If you say so."

"Don't take my word for it," she said, shrugging. "Watch him yourself."

"Spend more time around Potter than necessary?" I said, wrinkling my nose.

Hestia sighed gustily. "This is why you've been missing it, Lily."

"What do you mean?"

"I love you, sweetie, you know that. But you have a tendency to see what you want to see."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If you believe Potter's a prat, he'll remain a prat in your eyes forever. Sometimes you need to ignore what you think and see something with new eyes."

"If you say so," I repeated. I wasn't exactly sure how I felt about her advice. I knew Hestia wasn't trying to hurt or insult me, but I still felt a bit miffed. I wasn't too judgmental. If I thought Potter was a prat, it was because he was.

"Miss Evans?" I looked up to find Professor McGonagall towering over me. "Your schedule." She tapped a sheet of parchment and handed it to me.

"Potions, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, and Transfiguration, correct?"

I nodded.

"Am I also correct in saying that you have not yet decided what career you want?"

"That would be accurate," I said quietly, staring at my abandoned muffin.

"You're running out of time, Miss Evans."

"I know," I whispered, still looking down. I didn't want to meet her disapproving gaze. I knew I needed to have it all figured it by now, but I didn't. I had no idea what I wanted to do.

Wasn't I allowed time to figure it out?

I gazed at my schedule blankly, not really seeing it. I'd picked classes that most jobs required (but had somehow still gotten stuck with History of Magic), but what if I picked something that required a class I didn't have? What if I picked a career that needed Arithmancy? I wasn't taking it. I would end up as stuck as I was now.

I sighed and refocused on my schedule. Transfiguration was first. Damn. Let's start the day out on a high note!

Not.

Fifteen minutes later I was sitting next to Emmeline in the Transfiguration classroom. Potter was sitting right behind me, and I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my skull.

It wasn't really helping me to relax, if you can believe it.

"I believe you all are aware that this is your N.E.W.T. year, meaning that your workload will be heavier. This is the year that prospective employers look at the most. You need to work hard and perform well if you wish to succeed outside of school. You have been warned." McGonagall swept the room with a severe stare before continuing. "You will turn in your homework after class. Today we will begin by reviewing Vanishing."

Dammit. Vanishing was my weakest skill.

She passed out a pigeon to everyone while going over the incantation. I broke out into a cold sweat when a bird was placed on my desk. Emmeline's pigeon actually looked quite frightened, but mine just stared at me and started to groom itself. It probably knew I couldn't Vanish as much as a feather.

Bloody bird.

"You may begin," announced McGonagall, having reclaimed her spot at the front of the room.

I cleared my throat and pointed my wand at the pigeon in front of me. He stopped cleaning his feathers and glared at me balefully.

Now I _really_ wanted him to vanish.

"_Evanesco_," I said clearly, waving my wand. A wing faded from sight. My pigeon lost his balance and stumbled around the desk. He looked over to see what the problem was, and promptly started freaking out when he realized he had only one wing. I hurriedly pointed my wand and the feathery explosion happening on my desk and cried, "_Evanesco_!"

The other wing faded, and the pigeon started hopping around madly.

"You really need to mean it, Evans," whispered a voice behind me. "And you need to know you can do it. Transfiguration can smell fear."

Potter. "I don't need your help, Potter," I hissed.

"You sure about that?" he asked, indicating my flightless bird.

"I managed to do about half, didn't I?"

"Halves don't count, Evans."

I grit my teeth and glared ferociously at my bird. "_Evanesco_!"

A beak, a pair of feet, and a handful of feathers clattered on the desk.

"_Evanesco_."

One less feather.

"_Evanesco_."

One talon Vanished from a foot.

"_Evanesco_!"

Nothing.

"Miss Evans?" Professor McGonagall stood by my desk, looking down at the pile of bird parts on my desk with mild distaste. "May I see you at my desk?"

I followed her with the air of someone walking to their execution.

"I take it you are still struggling with Transfiguration?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that exactly…" I trailed off as McGonagall's eyebrows rose. I assumed she had seen the entirety of the bird incident. "Yes. I am."

"If your spell work doesn't improve, I am afraid that I will have to assign you a tutor. Mr. Potter!" she called.

Wait. What? Why was Potter needed?

"I see you Vanished your bird in one try, Potter."

"Yes, Professor," he said, looking wary.

"Miss Evans, if your grades don't improve, I will assign Potter as your tutor."

He looked like Christmas had come early. I looked like I was about to be sick (at least, I imagine that's what I looked like. That's what I felt like).

"I'll study harder, Professor, I promise," I pleaded. "I'll get better!"

"I'm counting on it, Miss Evans," she said, the barest hint of a smile on her face.

I rejoined my friends at the doorway. "So? What'd she say?" asked Emmeline as we walked down the hall.

"I have to bring my grades up or Potter will be tutoring me."

"No!" gasped Hestia.

"Yes," I said glumly.

"Would having me as your tutor really be that bad?" asked Potter, coming up behind us.

"Yes," I answered simply.

He looked stumped. "I hadn't actually expected you to say that."

"Wait," said a new voice. "You're tutoring Lily?"

Remus Lupin fell into step beside Potter. I'd seen him on the train, but I hadn't gotten a chance to say hello; Remus was the only Marauder I could tolerate.

"Hi, Remus," I said, giving him a small smile. "And no, he's not tutoring me yet."

"Yet!" Potter crowed. "You admit it will happen."

I cursed my stupidity. "You're expecting me to fail?" I said dangerously.

"What? Uh, no…" He backpedaled.

"Prongs? I'd suggest taking your foot out of your mouth right about now." Black had finally joined us. Lovely.

"Wait." I stopped suddenly, as did Hestia and Emmeline. "Why are you two still here?"

Potter looked around, confused. "There are three of us, Evans."

I gave a sugary smile. "But two I detest."

Black pouted. "C'mon Evans. By now you must know we're a package deal."

I rolled my eyes. "I actually would like to speak to Remus alone."

Potter shot him a venomous glare, to which Remus shrugged, baffled.

"Go, shoo," I said, waving them away.

Hestia and Emmeline gave me curious looks, and I knew I was going to be interrogated later. Black and Potter took a little more convincing, but soon enough Remus and I were alone in the halls. I pulled him aside into a little alcove by a window.

"Uh, Lily? What's this about?" he asked, a little nervously.

"How are you?"

"Fine," he said, bemused.

"No, really. Are you okay?" I gave him a penetrating stare. He started to squirm.

"I'm fine, Lily, what's with the third degree?"

"I know." Two little words, barely whispered, but they echoed in the enclosed space.

"Know what?" he asked, trying to remain calm. The octave his voice jumped did not help him look clueless.

"I know you're a werewolf."

He froze, a look of wild panic in his eyes. Then he slumped, defeated.

"How long?"

"Fourth year."

He looked up in surprise. "And you haven't—?"

I hit him on the shoulder. "Remus John Lupin! You must know by now that I don't give a—"

"Alright, alright. I just keep expecting people to hate me once they find out." He paused, a confused look on his face. "Wait. If you've known for three years, why are you just now mentioning it?"

I shrugged, I didn't really know myself, to be honest. "I dunno. I figure you could stand to know that you've got another person on your side." A sudden thought hit me. "Potter and Black and Pettigrew, do they know?"

He gave me an "are-you-really-being-serious-or-are-you-just-that-stupid" look. "They figured it out two years before you did."

I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off. "Lily, if you knew the lengths they went to help me, you wouldn't think so lowly of them."

I stood there, stunned. It took a few minutes to find my voice. "Why is everyone so desperate for us to be mates?"

"Because we see something you can't," he said shrewdly. "Now, if you'll excuse me…" He slipped out of the alcove and strode down the hall to rejoin his friends.

I remained by the window for a little bit longer. Did everyone think Potter was a bloody hero? He was just a school bully who picked on others to feel better about himself.

But my resolved wavered a bit as I made my way to Potions. I couldn't be missing something—could I?

No. I wasn't missing anything. I'd observed him throughout his years and had come to the conclusion that he was an arrogant prick. You were who you were.

You couldn't just change that in an instant.

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**A/N: Please please review. It always makes me smile.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. I'm currently transitioning everything from my old computer to my new one, and it's taking a little getting used to. Anyway, here you go!**

* * *

I felt my tense muscles relax and my worries slip away as I approached the Potions classroom. This class was my favorite, and I couldn't wait to see what Professor Slughorn would have us brew.

"Ah, Miss Evans! I trust you had an enjoyable holiday?" boomed the Potions master as I stepped into the room.

"I'm afraid it wasn't as enjoyable as I would have liked," I said. "I wasn't here." I gestured dramatically to the stone walls of the classroom.

He chuckled. "Of course. Always eager to start brewing."

"You know me, Professor."

I spotted my friends and slid into a seat next to Hestia. I was lucky that I had all my classes with my friends. They had already figured out what they wanted to do. Hestia wanted to work at Gringotts (her brains and cleverness would put her at an even match with any goblin she met) and Emmeline wanted to manage her own bookshop. They were taking a couple of extra classes than me as their career choices dictated, but they were in all my classes.

I inhaled deeply. I loved the smell of the classroom. There were always the faint traces of leftover brews that hung in the air. But today's scent seemed particularly intoxicating. I noticed the cauldron sitting at our table for the first time and saw golden smoke wafting up from it.

Amortentia. Also known as love potion.

I thought it was silly how some girls obsessed over it. Why would you want to make someone love you? But I couldn't help leaning forward as I inhaled.

I could smell peppermint, the combined smell of broomsticks and grass, and something else I couldn't identify. It smelled faintly of musk, and something spicy…whatever it was, it smelled _glorious_. And I had the feeling that I'd smelled it before.

"Professor?" I asked, tearing my gaze from the cauldron. "Did you have the sixth years before us?"

"Spotted the Amortentia, have you?" he asked, coming over and capping it. I felt slightly disappointed as the intoxicating perfume was cut off. "Yes, they were quite eager to see this one," he said patting the cauldron.

"Now, you will be brewing a tricky little healing potion today," he said, switching gears to start class. "If made correctly, it will cure a severe cough. Very helpful, but also very finicky. Now, as for partners…" His eyes fell on me and I began to grow uneasy.

"Why don't my two best students pair up?" he said cheerfully, blissfully unaware of the mutinous expression on my face. "Mr. Snape with Miss Evans, if you please…"

No, I do not please. I sullenly picked up my bag and took a seat next to Snape, who'd been sitting alone. I didn't make eye contact, just stared at the board as the instructions appeared.

"Lily—"

I cut him off. "Let's just brew the potion, alright?"

He shut his mouth and nodded. We started preparing the ingredients in silence.

"Put the gurdyroot in whole," he said.

I silently obliged, knowing his talent for improving potion recipes.

"Cut the mint leaves into strips, they'll dissolve faster," I added. He wasn't the only one who could do this.

"I'm sorry."

I turned slightly to find Snape looking straight at me. I dropped my eyes and said, "I seem to remember you saying that before. It didn't work then, either."

"Lily…"

"We've had this conversation before, Snape. I don't want to have it again. You said what you said. You're going down a road and I won't follow you. That's how things are."

That shut him up.

Our potion was simmering quietly when Slughorn passed by. "A perfect solution, as expected. Well done!"

We nodded, but remained silent. Slughorn seemed to notice this, and a little crease appeared in between his eyebrows as he moved to the next table.

After class had ended, Slughorn drew me aside. "Am I correct in saying that you would no longer like to work with Mr. Snape?"

"That would be accurate," I said quietly, looking down at my shoes.

He sighed. "Such a tragedy to break up a wonderful potion team. But, if you feel uncomfortable working with him, I won't pair you two up again. There's a project coming up involving a long-term potion. I'll go ahead and assign you." He picked up a class roster and scanned the list. "Let's see…you'll be with Mr. Potter for the project."

Did he just say Potter? I was partnered with Potter? That almost made me wish I was paired with Snape. Almost.

"Damn, that smells good."

I whirled around to find Potter and his friends standing by the Amortentia. The cap was in Black's hand, and Potter was inhaling deeply, a dreamy look on his face.

"Uh, Prongs? I think they're talking about you." Remus nudged him, wiping the stupid look off his face.

"Eh? What?" He focused on us.

"You will be Miss Evan's partner on the upcoming long-term assignment," said Slughorn, rolling up his class list. He handed me a sealed envelope, which I took dazedly, and left the room whistling happily.

"Score, Prongs!" cried Black happily, pumping his fist.

I scowled and swept out of the room.

"What happened?" asked Emmeline, trying to catch up with me.

"Potter," I growled.

"What about him?" asked Hestia.

I explained what had just happened as we made our way to lunch. "So I'll be stuck with him for who knows how long?" I finished, setting my bag down below the bench and sliding in.

"Ouch," murmured Emmeline.

"I know," I groaned. I didn't even feel hungry now. But that only lasted for about a second before my stomach changed its mind.

After a satisfying lunch, we headed up to the common room for our free period. Well, Emmeline and Hestia did. I took one look at the chaos within and excused myself to my dorm. The might be able to work in loud environments, but I definitely couldn't. Especially if I was going to start on my Transfiguration.

I found Potter already working at a desk in the common area. I didn't know whether to acknowledge him or not, so I just remained silent and took the couch, spreading my assignment over the low table in front of me. I needed to practice simple Transfiguration before I could start tackling this year's work (according to McGonagall). I was confident and successful in my minor attempts, but as soon as I tried to vanish a particularly ugly scarf that Petunia had given me (a frilly eyesore the color of baby vomit), I froze up and could only Vanish a few frills.

"_Evanesco_," I tried to say calmly. Nothing happened. The scarf remained on the table, seeming to stare at me smugly.

"_Evanesco_!" I shrieked, jabbing at the scarf. A few frills reappeared. I groaned in frustration and banged my head on the table.

"Everything alright, Evans?"

"No, everything is not bloody alright," I growled, lifting my head and scowling at the heap of fabric in front of me. "I can't Vanish. At all."

"Ah, yes. The wingless bird." I could practically see his smirk.

"Don't remind me," I moaned pitifully.

"Remember what I told you?"

"You mean when you were invading my personal space? You'll have to remind me."

I heard his chair scrape against the floor, and soon he was sitting next to me. "You have to be confident that you can do it."

"But I can't."

"How do you know?" he challenged.

I gave him a disbelieving look and pointedly stared at the remaining scarf. He followed my line of sight and jumped slightly when he saw it. He blinked a few times.

"Okay, I'm a bloke and even I know that scarf is hideous."

"No, it's just—" I broke off as Potter's eyebrows shot up. "Okay, yes, it's awful. Now you see why I'm trying to Vanish it."

"You have to believe that you can Vanish it. You have to _totally_ believe it. Who's this scarf from, by the way?" he added, abruptly changing topics.

"My sister," I said suspiciously. "Why?"

"I think you're having trouble with this because you don't really want it to go away. Some part of you wants to keep it."

"That's a lie," I burst out.

He looked at me, surprised. "Oh?"

I stared at the scarf, practically burning a hole in it with my gaze. It was such an ugly color, and Petunia _knew_ I hated frills. She'd insulted me by giving me this. Suddenly, flashbacks overwhelmed me. Petunia laughing at me, Petunia ignoring me, Petunia calling me a freak…

"_Evanesco_," I said with a deadly intensity. The scarf faded from my sight until not even a shadow remained. It was gone. Forever.

"I take it back," said Potter, staring at the spot where the scarf once lay. "You don't have a problem."

I hesitated. I may have mastered the spell work, but I still didn't understand the theory.

But I wasn't about to tell him that.

"I guess I won't need you as a tutor, then," I said coolly.

Potter looked at me shrewdly, and I had a funny feeling that he could see right through me. "Fine," he said simply, returning to his desk. A few moments later I heard the scratching of his quill, leaving me to take my homework alone.

Wait. Potter, the boy I'd never seen work, was sitting quietly across the room working on an essay that had been assigned that morning.

Had someone forgotten to tell me the world was ending?

"Lily! Lily, I need to talk to you!"

I looked to the portrait hole. Someone was outside, calling me. Someone that sounded a lot like Emmeline. Someone who sounded a lot like an upset Emmeline.

I pushed the portrait open to find her outside, tears streaking down her face. She took a deep breath. "I need to talk to you."

I turned to look at Potter, but found his seat empty and his door closed. "Alright, come on in."

We sat on the couch, and after casting a few spells to ensure we wouldn't be overheard, she began. "It's Hestia," she explained sadly, staring at the fire in the hearth. "She won't leave me alone about who I may or may not fancy. She wouldn't stop bugging me yesterday after you left for your dorm, and she started again when you left today. I can't take it!"

I hugged her and rubbed her back until she'd calmed down some. I'd opened my mouth to speak when she held up a hand. "Let me finish. Now, this wouldn't bother me normally, but she's been implying that no bloke would ever look at me. She started on the train when Black left, and now she's been trying to find out who he is so she can tell me if I have a chance. Shouldn't I have a chance with any boy? And I know this is stupid and silly and immature, but ever since she started I can't help but think that maybe the reason I've never had a boyfriend is because I'm unattractive—"

"Stop right there," I ordered in a stern voice. "Em, you are a beautiful person. You are one of the prettiest girls here. The reason you haven't had a boyfriend yet is because you're shy. You won't show the boys what you show us. You don't display your wonderful personality. And the guy you fancy—I'm assuming there is a crush?"

She nodded.

"He would be lucky to have you. And don't worry about Hestia. I'll take care of her." I looked at her from the corner of my eye. "You do know she loves you, right? She means well, but sometimes she can be overbearing."

Emmeline gave a wan smile. I hugged her again. "Will you tell me?" I asked quietly.

She shook her head, looking genuinely sorry. "I want to observe him a little more. To see if I have a chance."

"Well, whenever you do feel like sharing…"

"I'll come straight to you," she said.

"Just—tell me it's not Sirius Black."

She chuckled. "No, it's not him." But something in her eyes gave me pause.

I had the feeling that Emmeline was holding something back. Something she was afraid I wouldn't like.

* * *

**A/N: Please review! **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello again! I was going to wait until the weekend to post this to try and garner more reviews and followers, but changed my mind. I am a little sad that this isn't as popular as it was the first time around. Stupid FanFiction for taking down my story for no reason. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I'm just playing in J.K. Rowling's universe.**

* * *

I spent the rest of the week watching Emmeline closely. If she wouldn't tell me who she fancied, I would figure it out.

The fact that she even had a crush was true, I could tell that much. The signs were there; the flushed cheeks, shy glances, occasional giggle. But as much as I tried to find the recipient of these blushes, darting eyes and giggles, I came up with nothing.

For a person who hated lying, Emmeline was surprisingly good at deception.

She would look away as soon as I caught her, and when I tried to find who she was looking at, she'd always be staring at a clump of people. Whenever I caught her talking to someone around a corner, the person would be gone by the time I got there.

This spy work was really exhausting.

My observation of Emmeline was also punctuated by discreet glances in Potter's direction. My friends were insistent that he was different from the person I thought he was, so I decided to watch him. If he really was different, I would see that.

Of course, since I couldn't let him see me staring, I had to be unnoticeable. Which meant I didn't gather a lot of information. All I knew so far was that he was close to his friends and did well in class.

Which described about half the student population.

I huffed in frustration at breakfast one morning as I stole a look at Potter. He was laughing with Black as Remus smirked and Peter looked clueless. In short, they looked as they always did.

"You know," said Hestia, a chuckle in her voice, "If you wanted to know more about him, you could try talking to him."

I tore my eyes from the Marauders and gave her a repulsed look. "Talk to Potter? No way."

"I need to go," announced Em suddenly.

"Um, okay. Why?"

"Library," she said shortly, and she was gone.

Hestia and I looked at each other and shrugged. She'd been acting weird all week. I turned my attention back to the Marauders…or what was left of them. Only Potter, Black, and Peter remained at the table.

"Hess, you don't know anything about Em's mystery boy, do you?"

"You really think she'd tell me?"

"No."

"Then why are you asking?"

"She's driving me mad."

"I know." Hestia paused. "But she's not the only one with boy trouble."

I raised an eyebrow. "You? Boy trouble? Those don't belong in the same sentence."

"Oh, ha ha, very funny," she said, rolling her eyes. "But I'm serious."

"Uh, okay. Who is it?"

She looked around furtively before leaning in close. "Danny Goldstein."

"Danny—Danny Goldstein? Ravenclaw seventh year, tall, blond hair?"

"Yes," she muttered, turning a slight pink.

"Have you tried talking to him?"

"That's funny, I think I recall telling you the same thing."

"Oh, ha ha."

"I guess talking would be a good start," she said slowly, looking unsure of herself. The expression looked out of place on her, the girl who was so confident.

"Go on," I encouraged, shooing her away.

"Now?" she cried, panic flashing across her features.

"If not now, then when?"

She gathered herself and ambled over to the Ravenclaw table. I respectfully turned my head away, knowing she'd tell me everything later.

"Hey, Evans!"

Nothing like Potter's voice to start the day off right.

"Yes, Potter?"

"We should probably get a move on with that Potions project, yeah? I mean, since Slughorn officially assigned it and all."

I stifled a groan. "Yeah. We should."

"So what do you say? We meet after class this afternoon?"

"Sure."

"I look forward to it," he said, winking at me. I rolled my eyes.

Well, at least I'd get a chance to observe him.

* * *

I sat on a couch in the Head common room, anxiously waiting for Potter. We were just in the same class; how could he be late?

Stupid question. Potter could find a way to be late to anything.

"Don't worry, I'm here," he called as he stepped in the room.

"I wasn't worrying."

"Right."

I sighed and waved the envelope in the air. "Can we just find out what we're supposed to be brewing?"

"Go ahead," he said, flopping down beside me. I wrinkled my nose and scooted away. "What? Afraid I've got cooties?" He wiggled a finger right in front of my face. "I'm not touching you, I'm not touching you!" he sang.

"What are you, twelve?" I said, slapping his hand away.

"Why so serious?" he asked, scooting closer.

Great. Now I was squished between the armrest and Potter.

"Don't you know how to have fun?" he continued, peering down at me.

"My idea of fun does not involve annoying someone."

"You don't know that."

I gave him a startled look. What the hell was he talking about?

"Now, your idea of fun is probably reading a book. What if someone wanted to read that book?"

"They can just get another copy."

"What if you have the last copy from the library?"

"Then they can get another book."

"What if they don't want to read another book?"

"Then they can just deal with it!"

"So you can just deal with me annoying you."

I gave him an "are-you-really-that-stupid" look. "That doesn't apply at all."

"It does in my mind."

I rolled my eyes and shifted to open the envelope.

"Ow! Those were my ribs you just elbowed! Merlin, those things are like harpoons!"

"You're the one who's crowding me!"

"Oh." He moved over an inch.

I shifted again.

"Dammit, woman!"

"Move!"

He grudgingly moved out of reach of my elbows.

I slit open the envelope and pulled out a piece of parchment. Written in Slughorn's scrawl were two words.

_Polyjuice Potion._

"Damn. _Dammit_," I groaned, collapsing back.

"What? What'd we get?"

I threw my hand out, and he took the slip of paper. There was a pause, then, "Damn."

"That's what I said!" I cried. "Out of all the long-term brewing potions to give us, we're assigned Polyjuice?"

"That's bloody hard to make, isn't it?"

I scoffed in disbelief. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, we should probably get started, huh?"

I turned my head and gazed at him critically. Working with Potter would probably drag me down. If there was any way I could just do this myself…

"Don't even think of kicking me out of this."

I stared.

"You're too predictable, Evans. Besides, you really need all the help you can get. Even if it's only me."

His voice was so bitter; my insides started to squirm. "I—okay."

There was an awkward silence, and I felt even uncomfortable. I wasn't sure why, though, it wasn't like I owed Potter anything—

_But maybe you do,_ whispered a little voice in the back of my head. _What you were thinking was awfully rude…_

"I'm sorry." The words were out before I could even think about them.

"I—what?" He stared at me in disbelief.

"Please don't make me say it again."

"No, I won't. It's just—Lily Evans, apologizing to me?"

"I know, it's the end of the world," I retorted, scowling.

"Beginning to see me in a new light, eh?" he grinned, leaning back.

"No. Though everyone keeps telling me I need to."

"And are you listening?"

"I've been watching you. But I haven't found anything—" Oh damn. Damn, damn, _damn_.

A cocky grin spread across his face. "You've been watching me?"

"No, it's just everyone kept telling me I was missing something, so I was curious—"

But my protests fell on deaf ears. "You were _watching me_," he crowed. "Someone's coming around!"

"Not bloody likely!" I screeched, bolting to my feet. "This is why I can't stand you! You're so arrogant and full of yourself, thinking you're so much better than all of us, just because you can ride a bloody broom! I'm so sick of your "look-how-amazing-I-am" attitude! Everyone's been telling me that I've been missing something, that I can't see what they see. And they're right, I can't. I see a stuck-up prat who thinks he's God's gift to the world!"

And with that, I stormed off.

* * *

I went to the one place that could always calm me down: the library. I made a beeline to my favorite bookshelf. The Hogwarts library actually carried a handful of Muggle novels, and I'd read each copy a few times. I still loved skimming through them, and I always relaxed whenever I picked one up.

My fingers were inches from a copy of _Peter Pan_ when I froze. I heard giggling in the next aisle.

That in and of itself was not surprising, but it was Emmeline giggling. And she rarely giggled.

I peeked through a few books and bit back a gasp. Emmeline was sitting across from a boy.

So this must be Mr. Mystery. I shifted and craned my neck, but I could only see the back of his head.

"You actually managed to turn his hair pink? Filch, I mean?"

"It wasn't easy," Mr. Mystery said, "but it was worth seeing the look on his face."

Emmeline collapsed into another fit of giggles as my brain started reeling in shock. I knew that voice. I knew Mr. Mystery.

It couldn't be…

"I need to get going," he said, gathering up his books. "I've got a question to ask Flitwick."

"See you tomorrow!" Em called as he left.

I waited until he'd left, then rounded the corner. Emmeline looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Oh, uh, hi! What are you doing here?" she asked weakly, attempting a grin.

"Row with Potter," I said simply. I wanted to let her squirm a bit.

"Ah, of course. He would annoy me too, what with him asking you out all the time…" She trailed off, looking relieved. She must have thought that I hadn't seen her mystery boy.

Suddenly, what Emmeline had said registered with me, and something clicked. A tiny little observation had been niggling in the back of my brain, unnoticed until now.

"He's not," I said, stupefied.

"He's not annoying?" asked Emmeline, confused.

"No. He hasn't asked me out in a week. He hasn't asked me out at all this year."

"Come off it," scoffed Emmeline. "Surely he's let one invitation slip."

"No," I said dazedly. "Not one."

There was a moment's silence, then, "Blimey," she said, stunned. "Maybe there is something to that theory of Hestia's."

I nodded vaguely, then snapped out of it. "No, no there's not. He's still an arrogant prick."

"If you say so," she said skeptically. "But that's got to count for something, at least."

Did it? Or did it just mean that he'd grown tired of his obsession for me?

Potter was becoming quite a thorn in my side. Why couldn't he just be a straightforward prat?

That would make life so much easier.

"So that's him, huh?" I asked, not bothering to clarify who I was talking about.

She gulped and nodded, realizing that denial was futile.

"Not a bad choice," I said, thinking. "But why didn't you tell me?"

"I was scared," she admitted, staring down at her lap. "I've never really felt like this before…"

"You really fancy him?"

She nodded, blushing. "Yeah. He's really sweet and nice, and he has the funniest stories…"

"He was telling you about a prank they pulled, right?" I'd caught enough of the tail end of it to piece together the story.

"Yes. It really was entertaining, the way he told it."

"But it was a prank. That the Marauders pulled."

She gave me a blank look.

"I just don't know how you can find that funny."

"Unlike you," she said, her tone suddenly ice-cold, "I am willing to overlook someone's faults. You, however, become fixated on them until that's all you ever see."

"That's not true!"

"Yes, it is!" she cried shrilly.

"What's going on here?" Hestia stepped from behind a bookshelf.

"Lily is criticizing the boy I fancy."

"She fancies Remus Lupin! And while I like the bloke, I don't exactly approve of his choice in friends—"

"You see! What right do you have to judge him? I'll make those decisions for myself, thanks!"

"Lily," cut in Hestia, "you really should just back off. This _is_ her first crush, and you really shouldn't be making accusations."

"You're on her side?" I asked incredulously. "But I thought you hated the Marauders!"

"I try to reserve judgment," she said testily. "While I don't care for Potter or Black, Lupin is a good match for Emmeline. I'm happy for her."

I sat back, amazed. "I'm just saying—"

"Oh, shut up, Lily," snapped Hestia. "You have no right. You're so blinded by your hatred that you can't put it aside for a few seconds."

"You know," piped up Emmeline, "I feel sorry for you. You only see the worst in people."

How had this conversation gone so awry? This was supposed to be a happy occasion!

What was wrong with me? Why was I so determined to deter Emmeline from Remus? Was I really that prejudiced?

How could I hurt the two people I cared most about?

I opened my mouth to apologize, but Hestia cut me off. "It might be better if you just left, Lily."

I fled from the library, tears streaming for my eyes.

_I'm such a bitch. A cruel, cold-hearted bitch. _

I could barely see where I was going, and realized too late that I was in a dark, deserted corridor in a remote part of the school. And I'd probably missed dinner.

"Dammit, Lily. You are a stupid, cruel, judgmental person," I scolded myself, as I took in the black stone walls and darkening windows. I'd run when I should have apologized, and now I was lost in a castle I was supposed to know well.

I thought it couldn't have been worse, but then it was.

"What do we have here?" crawled a soft, taunting voice from the shadows.

"Looks like our very own Head Girl," answered a teasing, harsh voice from the opposite side of the hall.

"Isn't the Head Girl a Mudblood?" asked a slick, slimy voice.

"Right you are, Avery," said Voice One, a sneer infecting his tone.

"I say we have some fun with her," whispered Voice Two, glee evident in her tone.

"She could report us, Bellatrix," cautioned Avery.

"No one has to know," wheedled Bellatrix. "What do you say, Mulciber?"

"We can always wipe her memory," Mulciber suggested, stepping out from the shadows. He was a slight boy with a powerful build, his soft voice disguising an evil disposition.

"Yes," breathed Bellatrix, in the corner of the hall. Her curly black hair fell messily around her head, and her deep, black eyes stared at me hungrily.

"Since you to seem so set on her," said Avery, stepping out right in front of me, "then why not?" He was a tall, muscular bloke, with brown hair and an unforgiving face.

Too late, I tried to run. A wall of flames flared up, and I turned away for fear of being burned.

"Ah, ah, ah," tutted Bellatrix, waving the flames away. "It's no fun if you run. We want some sport."

"You'll be fighting us," grinned Mulciber, drawing his wand. In a split-second, mine was pointing straight between his eyes, but its trembling tip gave away my fright.

"She's terrified," taunted Mulciber.

"Is the wittle Mudbwood scared? Does she want her filthy Muggle daddy to protect her?" spat Bellatrix, advancing on me slowly.

That did it. Her taunt caused me to snap, and boiling hot rage rushed through my veins. Adrenaline pumped through my body, and my muscles thrummed with new energy.

"_Stupefy_!" I screamed. A flash of red light leaped from my wand and hit Mulciber square in the chest, taking him by surprise. He collapsed in a heap on the floor.

Rage burned in Bellatrix's eyes.

"What, scared that this little Mudblood can fight?" I shrieked, throwing a curse at her. She blocked it easily, and returned with one of her own. I dodged it and spun behind column supporting the ceiling.

"She's hiding now," called Bellatrix. "Waiting to run and tell on us!"

I peered around the column for a second (and dodged a bolt of purple light) and located Avery. I ducked back and steeled myself before jumping out and crying, "_Petrificus Totalus_!"

He seized up and crashed to the floor with a bang.

A flash of fear passed through Bellatrix's eyes.

"Not so confident now that it's a fair fight," I taunted as we circled each other.

She let out a scream of derisive laughter and fired off a curse. I parried and returned, and the fight continued.

"_Reducto_!" I cried, aiming blindly from my column. I heard the smashing of rubble that told me I'd been unsuccessful.

"You coward! Come and fight me face to face!" Bellatrix screamed.

Well, this was a first. I'm not sure anyone had ever had the guts to call me that to my face.

For good reason, too.

I steeled myself and stepped out from behind my hiding spot. Bellatrix's face shone in triumph, and her lips began to form an incantation. I knew what she was going to do before she even did it. My Shield Charm was up before she'd even let her spell fly. I hadn't expected her curse to be so strong, though, and the sheer power of it sent me skidding back a few feet.

"You believe you can defeat me?" laughed Bellatrix.

_No. Not really_, said a small voice in my head. I grit my teeth and shoved the voice to the very recesses of my mind. I couldn't afford any self-doubt.

"_Impedimenta_!" I shrieked. A jet of blue light burst from my wand, heading straight for Bellatrix. She was too fast for me, though, and sent my spell back at me. I twisted ridiculously and only barely managed to dodge it.

"Silly Mudblood, this isn't the ballet!" she mocked, sending a bullet of silver light rocketing past my hip.

But it was, in some evil, strange way. We'd twist and turn and dance around each other, both of us trying to gain the upper hand. Sweat and blood ran down my face, and my breath came out in erratic gasps. I would fire Stunning spell after Stunning spell, trying to hit any part of her. But it was like trying to shoot a snake. She would keep dodging and twisting, avoiding every spell thrown at her. The ones that did almost hit her were blocked by Shield Charms so powerful, they ricocheted onto the walls, carving out deep gouges into the stone. I couldn't stay still for a moment. I leapt and defended, trying to keep myself alive as long as possible.

For there was surely no way I could make it out of this in one piece.

She would make sure of that.

"_Stupefy_!" I screamed, firing off a jet of red light that came so close to Bellatrix that it singed her skirt. Her face contorted into a mask of intense fury and hatred.

"_Crucio_!" she spat, aiming her wand at my heart. I dived instantaneously, praying I wasn't too late.

A bolt of red light came from behind me, catching Bellatrix full in the chest. She toppled backward onto the floor, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I climbed up off the floor and turned to thank my savior. I found James Potter behind me, wand out and a murderous expression on his face.

For some reason, the first thing that popped into my mind was a memory of my father, before he fell sick.

_He was standing in the doorway of my bedroom, looking at me with disappointment. I'd just screamed at Petunia and had rushed to my room, where I'd collapsed on my bed and promptly burst into tears._

"_Lily," he admonished softly. I shook my head and burrowed deeper into my bed. I felt the bedsprings compress as he sat down next to me. "You need to apologize."_

"_She started it!" I cried indignantly. "She won't leave me alone! I can't help what I am…"_

"_I know she struggles to accept you, and I know she can be quite vengeful. But no matter how ruthless a person is or how malicious they act, everyone deserves an apology when they're attacked."_

"_Everyone?" I asked desperately, trying to find a way out._

"_Everyone," he said firmly. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."_

_I screwed up my face, confused. "Huh?"_

"_Treat others the way you want to be treated, Lily. No matter how wicked you think they are."_

_I hesitated. "Okay." _

_He smiled. "That's my girl."_

I needed to apologize to Potter. For my father. No matter what I thought of him, I'd been spiteful and rude. No one deserved that.

But where to start?

"I'm a bitch," I managed weakly before falling on the floor in a dead faint.

* * *

**A/N: Dun dun duuuuuun! I'll post the next chapter this weekend, so you won't have to wait to find out what happens. **

**Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So, I lied. This chapter went up a little later than I promised. Sorry 'bout that. I'm just caught up in a new project. Now, I will tell you, this one had been slightly edited to make more sense. It went by a little too fast, so I tried to slow things down a bit. Now it's my longest chapter. **

**Disclaimer: Last I checked, I didn't own HP.**

* * *

Oh bloody bugger. My head is _killing_ me.

I screwed my eyes shut tighter in a feeble attempt to block out the light seeping through my closed eyelids.

"Lily? Are you awake?" The voice floated through the air somewhere to the right of me, piercing my ears and causing my brain to ring.

"Shut up," I mumbled.

"Don't worry, Madame Pomfrey! She's okay!" the voice called.

What part of "shut up" didn't this person understand?

With great effort, I pried open my eyes. They felt sticky and grainy, like someone had unsuccessfully tried to glue them shut. I was staring at a pristine white ceiling, marred only by a small crack in one corner. I looked to my left and found a small table holding a potion bottle full of neon orange liquid. I was in the hospital wing.

I looked to the right and saw James Potter sitting in a chair by my bed. "What are you doing here?" I rasped out, my voice hoarse.

"Straight to the point, I see. No, 'Hello, Potter, how are you'?"

"Hello, Potter, how are you? What are you doing here?"

He chuckled. "Nice." His expression sobered. "Do you remember what happened?"

"What? I don't—" Suddenly, I saw Bellatrix Black in my mind, firing off curse after curse.

"The Slytherins…I was dueling Bellatrix."

"Yes, you were. Quite impressively, I might add. Then I Stunned Bellatrix, and I seem to remember you turning to me and saying, 'I'm a bitch' before passing out."

"Because I'm no better than those bastards that attacked me," I muttered darkly.

Potter looked shocked. "Of course you are—"

I held up a hand to stop him. "Let me finish. I—I'm sorry."

"I—what?"

"Don't make me say it again."

"Evans? Apologizing to me?"

I grit my teeth. "Yes. Now accept it and drop it."

"Apology accepted."

As much as I disliked him, it felt cathartic to hear those words. "Do you know where Hestia and Emmeline are?" I asked, anxious to see them. And anxious to change the topic.

James dazedly shook his head like a wet dog. "Yeah, they're just outside. They've actually been quite frantic to see you."

"Can you let them in? Please?"

He nodded and left his place by my bed. I lay back down on my bed and reviewed what I'd just said to Potter. I did mean my apology, but I still didn't want to be friendly with the bloke.

"Lily!" shrieked Hestia, bursting in through the doors. "You're alright!"

"We were so worried," cried Emmeline, throwing her arms around my neck.

"We thought the last conversation we would ever have with you would be that row!"

"We're really sorry!"

"No," I said firmly, removing Emmeline's arms from their death grip around my neck. "Don't apologize. I was being a total bitch to you. I have no right to judge whomever you fancy, Em. That's up to you."

"And I'm sorry," she said, tears brimming in her eyes. "I was being overdramatic. I _never _act like that. I guess I just was so scared that you'd disapprove that I snapped when you even brought it up. I should have heard you out and explained things rationally instead of blowing up like that."

"But since when is stuff like this rational?"

Emmeline gave a watery smile.

"And I'm okay, Em, really. I was being a total bitch and I needed a slap in the face. Okay, so a gentler slap might have been nice, but you're right. I see the worst in people and let it cloud my judgment."

"So does that mean you'll be taking our advice now?" asked Hestia, her eyes flicking over to where Potter stood, a respectful distance away.

"Baby step, Hess. Baby steps."

They burst out laughing and we hugged again. A huge weight slid off my chest, and I felt better than I had in a long time. I felt like I'd been given a fresh start. I wasn't going to waste it.

"Is it true that you dueled three Slytherins?" asked Emmeline, eyes wide.

"Sort of. I took down Avery and Mulciber, but Potter beat Bellatrix."

"Only after you'd held your own in a ten-minute duel," he piped up.

Emmeline looked faint, and Hestia's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets. "Tell us everything," she demanded, leaning in.

So I did. I described the corridor I'd ended up in, the voices I'd heard from the shadows. I told of how I'd attacked first, how I took down Avery and Mulciber. I explained how I'd felt, how the adrenaline had rushed through my body, how my heartbeat had wildly pulsed, how I'd been able to see the world through such clarity. Everything had become black and white; Bellatrix was evil, and I had to stop her. Everything had seemed so much simpler. I almost missed it.

They were a most appreciative audience, gasping whenever a curse had been thrown at me, and cheering whenever a Slytherin went down. When I finished telling my story, they were almost as breathless as I had been.

"Miss Evans, I must insist that your friends leave! You need your rest!" Madame Pomfrey was the relatively new Healer who'd taken over for the old, doddering Madame Smethwick. My initial impressions were that she was a good Healer, but she seemed to put too much stock in solitary bed rest.

She shooed Hestia and Emmeline out, leaving just me and Potter in the hospital wing. "Why are you still here?" I asked.

"I think it had something to do with giving a statement about what happened. I was told to stay here."

We lapsed into a semi-awkward silence. I felt like I should say something, but I didn't want to at the same time. After about ten minutes, though, I cracked. "I thought it was safe here."

Potter seemed startled to hear my voice. "Sorry?"

"Hogwarts is supposed to be safe, isn't it? With Dumbledore here and all? Yet I'm attacked the second week of term."

"The Slytherins who attacked you are going to be expelled, Evans. It won't happen again."

"That's a lie Potter, and you know it. Others will rise up to take their place. And then those three will be out in the real world joining You-Know-Who, causing real damage. It just seems like nobody can do enough."

"The Auror Department is doing everything they can," Potter said, looking a little insulted.

"I'm not trying to offend your parents. They are Aurors, right?"

He nodded.

"It just feels like nobody could ever do enough to stop him. And I don't even know why I'm telling _you_ this."

"You need to tell somebody. I just happen to be here," he shrugged. He was being uncharacteristically serious as he listened to me. "But…it sounds to me like you quite enjoyed kicking Bellatrix's arse."

I almost denied it, but I had the feeling that he'd heard the story I'd related to my friends. "Yeah. It felt _really_ good. I've actually never experienced anything like that before. That feeling of knowing exactly what you need to do, and knowing how to do it. I felt…powerful."

"And you say you don't know what to do after Hogwarts?"

"How…how do you know that?" And why the bloody hell would he bring that up now?

He waved his hand in the air vaguely. "Semantics. But I was just wondering if you still didn't know what you wanted to do."

"No, I don't. And what does that have to do with anything?"

He gave a mysterious smile. "Nothing."

I rolled my eyes and huffed impatiently.

"Mr. Potter?" McGonagall's imposing frame was in the doorway to the hospital wing. "If you will come with me, please. Miss Evans, we will take your statement tomorrow morning, once you are released from the Hospital Wing."

Potter nodded to me and followed her out the door, leaving me alone in the incredibly boring hospital wing.

One thing I detested about being left alone with nothing to do for an long amount of time is that my mind often wandered a great deal, usually to places that I didn't want it going. This time, my mind kept replaying the last few scenes with Emmeline and Hestia. We'd made up and everything would be alright in regard to our friendship. That wasn't what bothered me. It was the words they'd said while we were fighting, even for that short amount of time.

I knew they'd meant what they said. They could apologize and say they didn't mean it, but they did at the time. I truly felt that they believed I could be blind to changes in others. They really did think I could be prejudiced. A hot rush of shame filled my cheeks. I knew what they said was true. I was an idiot for what I'd said about Remus. He was a good person, no matter his affiliation with Potter. I'd let my beliefs about Potter slide over to Lupin. No matter what I felt about someone, I couldn't let that get in the way of my views of others. And I had to be more open about others.

I know. Easier said than done.

* * *

Salvation came the next morning, when I was called for. After five minutes of being fussed over by Madame Pomfrey, I was given a clean bill of health and escorted to Professor Dumbledore's office. I gulped nervously and began to fidget as Professor McGonagall gave the password (Droobles), and broke out into a cold sweat as the revolving staircase slowly twisted its way upward. What if my action were seen as breaking school rules? Would I get in trouble for defending myself?

"There is no need to be nervous, Miss Evans," reassured Dumbledore as I stepped into his office. "You are not in trouble."

My shoulders sagged slightly as I sank into the seat opposite his desk. All I had to do now was recount what had happened.

"If you will please tell us the events of last night?" asked Dumbledore, peering over his spectacles at me.

I took a deep breath and dove right in. "I was in a remote corridor in the school—"

"Just for the record, why were you there?" asked McGonagall from her position behind Dumbledore's desk.

My face turned red. "Uh, I'd gotten in a row with my friends."

"I trust all has been set right?" the headmaster inquired, his eyes twinkling.

"What? Oh yes, of course."

"Very good. Continue, please."

"Right. So, I was about to turn back when I heard voices talking. They were Avery, Bellatrix, and Mulciber debating whether or not to attack me. They decided to. Bellatrix said something about my—my father…"

"I daresay that spurred you to action?"

"Yes sir. Yes, it did. I Stunned Mulciber and Bellatrix started attacking. I performed a Full Body-Bind on Avery next, but couldn't touch Bellatrix. We dueled for I'm really not sure how long, but after Bellatrix shot off a Cruciatus Curse—"

I heard McGonagall inhale sharply, and Dumbledore's eyes hardened for a spilt second.

"—Potter showed up behind me and Stunned her."

"Do you know how Potter knew where you were?" asked McGonagall.

"No, Professor. I have no idea. Did he say?"

"His answers on that matter were intentionally vague," remarked Dumbledore, waving a hand airily. "Now, you can be sure that those three students are no longer attending Hogwarts. Letters from irate parents will no doubt be arriving, but my mind has been made up. We merely needed to hear your story to determine the extent of the violation. You may proceed to class, Miss Evans."

"Thank you, sir." I stood and left his office, feeling lighter than I had when I'd come in.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore watched the redheaded student leave his office, sighing as he did so. "It saddens me that innocence is shed so early."

Minerva McGonagall hesitated, forming her request her mind. "Sir, should she be a candidate? I know we did not include her originally, but her dueling skills were quite impressive…"

He thought for a moment, stroking his silver beard. "Do you think she would accept our offer?"

"She seems the type to stand up for what she believes in. And I am sure she believes in our cause."

"Does she have her sights set on a career?"

Minerva let out a barely audible sigh. "No, sir. She is one of the last in her year. I believe our offer would be ideal for her."

Albus sighed again and gazed at the door that the redhead had just vanished through. "Not yet, Minerva. Let us watch a little longer. She may determine her path yet."

* * *

I left the Headmaster's office in sort of a daze. Things had been moving so fast, the attack hadn't really sunken in yet. I'd avoided replaying the scenes in my head by thinking of my friends and Potter, but now, having given my statement, the attack was fresh in my mind. I was once again alone with my thoughts, and they were racing full throttle.

I'd always thought Hogwarts was safe. It was the one place in the world where I knew, no matter what was going on anywhere else, I wouldn't be harmed. But that wasn't true anymore. And it scared me.

If I could be cursed here, what about the real world? I wouldn't last five minutes!

But I'd held my own in that duel. I hadn't thought much of my ability in DADA, but it seems that I knew more than I thought. But would it be enough? I resolved to work harder in that class. Apparently, I needed it more than I thought.

The common room fell silent as I climbed through. Everyone was staring at me, like they couldn't really believe I was still here. It was a little insulting, actually.

"Lily!" cried Emmeline, beckoning me over. The silence broke at her outburst, and everyone turned back to what they'd been doing.

Well, most people did.

"That's Lily Evans…"

"Isn't she the one who was attacked?"

"She's Muggle-born, that's why."

"I heard she's the reason those three Slytherins got expelled."

"Wasn't she in some deserted corridor when it happened?"

"What was she doing there?"

"Maybe she was meeting James Potter…" The two girls who'd been whispering collapsed into a fit of giggles.

I felt my fists clench as I sat next to Hestia. How dare those girls speculate about what had happened? They weren't there; they hadn't seen Bellatrix's face, so full of hatred and loathing. They hadn't seen her throwing curses.

How did they even know already? The attack had only happened yesterday evening. Surely rumour couldn't spread _that_ fast.

Though according to the whispers that surrounded me, it could.

"Lily? Are you alright?" asked Hestia, waving a hand in front of my face.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine," I said, faking a smile.

"No you're not," she said businesslike. "It takes time."

I hid a scowl. She had no idea what I'd been through. She couldn't tell me what this was like.

"I'm going back to the Head room," I said abruptly. I stood up. "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

"Okay, but…" Emmeline looked hesitant. "We've got class in fifteen minutes."

I stifled a frustrated shriek. There was nothing more I wanted to do than to collapse on my bed and stare into nothingness. I'd just been attacked, and now they wanted me to go to class and do my work like nothing had happened?

"I'm sure they'll excuse you," Hestia said hurriedly.

"No," I groaned. "It's fine." The looks Hess and Em gave me told me for sure that they didn't believe me. But I stayed where I was.

I tried to distract myself until class by tuning in to the conversations around me.

"Can you believe it? She had the gall to call me that in front of him!"

"That bitch!"

A couple of sixth years gossiping…

"And I've still got that Potions essay! I don't know how I'm going to get all of this done!"

"And you're still going out for the Quidditch team?"

"I don't know if I can now…"

A pair of fourth years fretting over workload…

"And I just don't know what to do around him. It's like someone's wiped my brain clean whenever he shows up."

"I know what you mean. Sometimes I feel like I can hardly string words together when I'm around Remus."

The name jerked my out of my torpor. Emmeline and Hestia were chatting next to me, and I'd picked up on their conversation without meaning to. Their discussion fell into the pile with all the others I'd overheard. Everything seemed so trivial and meaningless now. There was real danger out there. There was real danger _here_! And everyone seemed content with gossiping and mindless conversation.

How could they be so blind? There was an enemy, and they just pretended like nothing was going on.

"So he's really getting powerful, then?"

I jumped a little at this. The statement seemed so perfectly in line with my thoughts; I leaned a little closer to eavesdrop.

"That's what my dad says," came a new voice. "And you know he's got connections."

"You think those Slytherins are allied with him?" asked yet another voice.

"They've got to be," replied Voice One. "You know how ol' Bella is. She was probably the first one to sign up."

"I wish he'd just turned out to be the insane maniac the Ministry thought he was," said Voice Three.

"That'd just be too easy, wouldn't it?" Voice Two said grimly. "Nah, Voldemort's serious trouble. He's—"

"For Merlin's sake, Wormtail. He's just a man, you don't need to twitch every time someone say his name," said Voice One irritably.

I started. Wormtail. That was Peter's nickname. Which meant—

I turned my head to see the Marauders circled up around a table in the corner. Peter had just jerked violently and had upturned a goblet of pumpkin juice, which Black was mopping up with an annoyed look on his face.

Potter continued from where he'd been interrupted. "Besides, shouldn't the attack on Evans be an indicator? These Death Eaters are serious about their anti-Muggle and Muggleborn agenda."

"This discussion's getting way too grim," broke in Black, tossing his hair out of his face. "I'm going to be in a bad mood for the rest of the night."

"Do you have any other suggestions, Padfoot?" asked Remus, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah. How're you getting on with Evans, Prongs?"

Potter had just opened his mouth to reply when—

"Lily?" asked Emmeline. "We need to get going." I turned to find her looking at me expectantly.

"Fine," I said shortly, trying to overhear the Marauder's conversation.

"So let's go," she said, standing up and looking down at me. I stifled another groan and picked myself off the couch. "Here," she said, handing out my shoulder bag for me. "I made sure everything you need is in it."

"Of course you did," I mumbled, reaching out and taking it.

"What was that?" Hestia asked suspiciously.

"Nothing."

* * *

Class was excruciating. I could barely find any motivation to answer questions, most of my homework went undone, and I spent most of my time between staring into space or sleeping.

Because I wasn't getting any at night, that was for sure. Every time closed my eyes, Bellatrix was there, her wand pointed at my heart and an incantation on her lips. More often than not, I awoke covered in sweat and tangled up in my sheets.

In short, my life was falling apart.

I lashed out at anyone who talked to me. Most people learned to avoid me. Even my friends started to drift away. I could see it happening, and it hurt, but I couldn't find the energy to fix my mistakes. So I floated along, a solitary piece of driftwood in a sea of students. I felt alone. I was scared. And I didn't know why everyone else could go on with their lives and pretend that everything was okay.

Because it wasn't.

My wake-up call came days after the attack. I walked into the Head common room to find Hestia and Emmeline waiting for me.

"Can I help you?" I asked as I moved past them.

"Sit," Hestia ordered in a cold voice. Her tone startled me so much that I slowly made my way around the couch to sit on an armchair next to my friends.

"This has to stop," Hestia continued.

"We're worried about you," Em said quietly.

"You are destroying your life. You're letting Bellatrix win," said Hestia.

That had an effect. "What?"

"You're letting her destroy you. You don't do your work, you can't sleep, you hardly eat…She's ruling your life, and you're letting her! She's not even in the school anymore!"

"What am I supposed to do?" I snapped. "Everyone just pretends that nothing is happening! There's a war out there, and everyone's preoccupied with who's dating who!"

"Because it keeps us sane! You think we're ignorant? You think we purposely ignore the articles the _Daily Prophet_ brings us daily? Do you honestly think that we choose to bury our heads in the sand?"

I backtracked. "No, that's not exactly—"

"Yes it was," said Emmeline, her brown eyes boring into mine. "We can talk about homework and gossip and crushes because that's what keeps us sane. We can keep calm and carry on if we have something to focus on other than a war. Because we know there's a war out there, make no mistake about that."

I remained silent, feeling ashamed.

"But when you think about it," piped up Hestia, "Those trivial things are also a part of life. It's not just the important things or the dangerous stuff. It's going day to day, talking to others, falling in love, doing your work. That's part of life. So do us a favor, and don't get so wrapped up in the dark that you forget the lighter side of life."

"I still won't be able to sleep," I mumbled, trying to find an excuse.

"Try really living your life," Em suggested. "Maybe it'll get easier."

I hated to admit it, but their words had pierced the shell I'd built since the attack. I saw the truth behind their words. I felt shame color my cheeks, and I looked at them guiltily. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice cracking. "I'm a horrible person."

"No you're not," Hestia chided gently. "Don't say that."

"You're a good person who's just had horrible things happen to you," said Emmeline. "What's important is that things are going to change now, right?"

I wiped at my eyes, which had grown watery, and said, "Yeah."

A few minutes later, they left the common room and Potter took their place.

"Hey Evans? Got a minute? Great," he said, taking the chair across from me without waiting for an answer.

I shook off the gloom that had ruled my life the past few days and shoved it in a box in the corner of my mind. I would not let Bellatrix rule my life. I would laugh, and have fun, and do well. I would break every expectation she had of me.

Starting right now.

"Sure, Potter, go ahead," I said sarcastically. I settled into my habit of verbal barbs like one would settle into an old beloved sweater that had been lost. I loved the feel of a witty reply on my tongue. God, I'd missed living like this.

"Thanks," he said, grinning. He face grew subdued as he pulled something out of his pocket. "Now, I really can't believe _I'm_ the one bringing it up, but we do need to set patrols."

I groaned and threw my head back on the chair. As easy as it was to revert to my old ways of verbal bantering, summoning energy and motivation was harder to do on a whim. "Can't we just make the prefects do it?" I asked, staring at the ceiling.

There was a silence, and I switched my gaze over to Potter. He was staring at me in incredulity.

"Potter?"

"No, you can't say that. That's _my_ line. You're supposed to bring up the schedules, I'm supposed to try and get out of doing them, and then you're supposed to yell at me. That's how it goes."

"Fine, fine. Give them here." He handed them to me, and I looked down at them in apprehension. The spreadsheet had names down one side, and dates across the top. We needed to pair prefects up and assign them days and times. No part of me wanted to do that right now.

"I also can't believe I'm saying this either, but we probably need to get started on our potion."

It was my turn to stare. "Since when are you Mr. Get-It-Done?"

"Since you became Miss I-Don't-Care."

"Don't you try to give me a lecture now," I warned. "My friends just did that."

"Didn't say I would," he said casually. There was a pause…then, "I need good recommendations and impeccable marks to be an Auror. And forgetting about this potion wouldn't help my Potions grade at all."

I raised an eyebrow. "I commend you on your surprising maturity."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, always the tone of surprise. Now can we get a move on? I'm meeting someone later."

I scowled involuntarily. "Patrols first, Potter. You won't be able to run off to whoever it is anytime soon."

He gave me a strange look. "You don't need to bite my head off, I'm meeting Padfoot."

"Oh." I felt supremely stupid now, and I wasn't even sure why. "Right. Well, let's get started then."

One hour and two rows later, a neat spreadsheet sat in front of me, filled in its entirety. Potter sat skulking in his chair, upset that I hadn't let him give all the Slytherins the midnight patrols (though I'd been sorely tempted to).

"Stop pouting, Potter, it makes you look like a teenage girl."

That straightened him out somewhat.

Next was Potions. I pulled a book out of my bag and flipped it open to a page I'd marked previously. I shuddered at the grotesque illustrations next to the ingredient list, and not for the first time was extremely glad that I wasn't taking this.

"We'll need to ask Slughorn for a few ingredients. I know he'll have boomslang skin and lacewing flies, but I'm not sure if he'll have fluxweed grass," I muttered. "_And_ it has to be picked on the full moon…"

"Doesn't Hagrid have a patch in his garden?"

"I dunno, does he?"

"I'm pretty sure. I can get some, no problem."

"But it has to be picked on the full moon."

"I heard you the first time. Don't worry about it, I'll get it."

"How're going to manage that?"

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies," he said easily, standing up. "Now, if you'll excuse me…" He left me sitting in front of the table as he left through the portrait hole.

What the bloody hell did that mean? Was he going to do something illegal?

I had the feeling that I knew less about Potter than I'd thought.

* * *

**A/N: Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, but I had a good reason. I was discovering that this college thing is actually kinda hard. On the bright side, I did find inspiration regarding this story! I've written two chapters past where I'd been when it was taken down, and I have some good ideas on where I want to go next. So, to celebrate, I decided to post. I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. **

* * *

I ran into Potter in the common room the next morning. I was about to cross through the portrait hole when I stopped suddenly. A question had surfaced that I'd wanted to ask him.

"How did you know where I was?"

"Pardon?" he asked warily, a little taken off guard.

"When I was attacked. I was on the other side of the school in that deserted fourth floor corridor. There was no way you were just taking a stroll over there and happened to hear us dueling."

"Sheer dumb luck?"

"Usually I'd accept that, especially when it concerns you, but I don't think so. I asked Dumbledore, but he said you were being intentionally vague."

"I knew he'd caught onto that," he said, grinning. "I don't think he misses a thing."

"Yes, yes, astute as Dumbledore is…how did you know?"

"A true Marauder never reveals his secrets."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why do I have a sinking feeling that this method is illegal?"

He shook his head. "No, not illegal. Unprecedented, maybe, but not illegal." And for the second time in as many days, he left me in the common room.

Unprecedented? What the bloody hell was he talking about? Did he have something new that let him know where others were?

I looked back at the portrait hole as I debated a half-baked plan that had just popped into my mind. I was astonished that I'd actually thought of it, as it was nothing like me.

I crept up to Potter's door and pushed it open, wincing at the squeak. Then I realized how stupid I was being, as Potter was nowhere near here.

I looked around and wrinkled my nose at the robes thrown haphazardly on the floor. Was it physically impossible for boys to be neat?

I pulled out my wand and waved it. "_Specialis Revelio_."

A piece of parchment lying on the desk in the corner glowed a bright blue. I found myself walking over to it. It was folded over several times and looked relatively new. I hesitantly picked it up and stared at it. I was beginning to have a bad feeling about what I was doing. If Potter caught me, he definitely would not be happy. But…I really wanted to know.

"Reveal yourself," I said clearly, tapping it with my wand.

Nothing.

"Show your true nature?" I tried.

Nothing.

I started berating myself out loud. "Lily Evans, you are being very stupid and foolhardy right now. What in the world possessed you—"

I stopped suddenly. As soon as I'd said my name, black ink had appeared on the parchment. I squinted and realized that the ink was sliding around to form words.

_Mr. Moony wonders how Lily Evans came across this map, for surely she did not just stumble upon it. Unless Mr. Padfoot lost it. _

_Mr. Padfoot is insulted and insists he did not lose it. He thinks Lily Evans must have stolen it, and would like to register his shock that such a goody two shoes could commit a crime of this caliber._

_Mr. Prongs is annoyed, yet impressed with Lily Evans. He wishes to pay her his respects, yet asks her to put the map back and leave it alone. _

_Mr. Wormtail is not really sure what to say to Lily Evans, as everything seems to be covered by his associates. _

My eyes widened as I continued to read. Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail? That was what the Marauders called themselves. They must have made this. A map, gathering from what Moony and Prongs said.

I couldn't help but be impressed. This was serious magic. I'm not sure I could have made something like this. Though I didn't have a troublemaker's mind, and this was surely an instrument used to pull pranks.

This caused me to stop short. If Potter and co. was using this to break rules, I was obligated to report them. But I'd have to explain how I found it. Breaking into the Head Boy's dorm to have a look around didn't sound exactly kosher. I had no choice but to put it back and leave, making sure everything was where I left it last.

I was on autopilot as I walked through the hallways to Charms. I didn't have any real proof that what I'd found was a map, besides what had been written. It could have been a piece of joke parchment, meant to confuse whoever wrote it. Yes, that was it, I decided as I entered the classroom. It wouldn't do to spend any more time on it.

"Um, Lily?" Hestia was looking at me apologetically. "Em and I are going to partner up, if that's okay."

I stared at her. I always was paired with Em, and Hestia always found someone else. That's how we always did it.

"But Danny's free, you can sit with him." Now she was smiling brightly and pointing across the room, where true to her word, Danny Goldstein was sitting by himself.

"Why don't you pair with him if you're so desperate to get to know him?" I grumbled.

She gave me a pointed look and brushed me off.

You know, my friends were cowards. Letting me do their dirty work.

"Hi Danny," I greeted him, sliding into the vacant spot next to him. "My friends seem to have abandoned me, d'you find if I sit here?"

"Not at all," he said, grinning. "How are you, by the way?"

I faltered a little bit, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "I'm fine. Really."

"Great. You know," he said, leaning a little bit closer, "that was seriously impressive."

I inched back a little, starting to feel a bit uneasy. "What?"

"The way you fought them off. Very impressive," he repeated, winking.

"Uh…thanks."

"Now, if I could have your attention!" squeaked Flitwick from atop his pile of books. "We will start class…"

I spent the rest of the period trying to inch away from Danny. Something about him put me off. I'm not sure if it was the way he leaned closer to me whenever he could, or the way I caught him eyeing me halfway through class, or even if it was the strange expression on his face…but I no longer thought of him as well as I did before.

"Care to explain yourself?" Hestia asked me as I caught up with her after class.

"What are you talking about?" But I had a feeling…

"You were flirting with Danny the entire class!"

"No, I wasn't! He was the one doing all that!

She harrumphed, and I could tell she didn't believe me.

"Honestly, Hess, can you see me going after a guy you've told me you fancy?"

She started to soften.

"And if you really want to date him, you can talk to him yourself!"

"Fine," she admitted grudgingly. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay." I paused, wondering whether to tell her about my suspicions. But then I remembered all too well the argument we'd had when I'd brought up my hesitations about Remus. No, better not tell her. I probably just imagined the weirdness anyway.

"Hey, you coming to the common room?" asked Em as I started down a different hallway.

"No, I need to ask Slughorn for some potion ingredients," I replied, waving them on. "Don't wait up."

I descended down into the dungeons and poked my head into the Potions classroom. "Professor?"

He looked up and beamed when he saw me. "Ah, Miss Evans! I know why you're here!"

"Yes sir," I said, stepping inside. Slughorn bustled inside his storage closet, leaving me to gaze around the classroom.

The Amortentia was no longer on a tabletop. I imagined it'd been stowed away in a cupboard somewhere. It was probably for the best too, I didn't want to get too wrapped up in trying to figure out whom I'd smelled. I could go my entire life without figuring it out.

"Now, I have boomslang skin and lacewing flies for you, but I'm afraid my store of fluxweed grass has been depleted."

"Potter told me he'd be able to get his hands on some."

"How does he plan on doing that?" asked Slughorn as he handed me a couple of jars.

"I've no idea, sir. He wouldn't tell me."

"Well, if Mr. Potter fails, you come see me next week. I'll have some more by then."

"Thank you sir," I said, exiting the classroom.

* * *

I was a floor below the Head common room when I heard it.

"Lily? Lily, are you alright?"

"Merlin, Sev, don't do that!" I cried, slipping up and using his nickname. "I need these ingredients!" I'd almost dropped them when I'd jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Sorry," he said, coming out from behind a tapestry.

"What do you need?" I asked, anxious to start on my potions.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'd heard you were, but I wanted to make sure for myself."

"I'm fine, Sev," I said, my steely resolve softening a little.

"Yeah. Okay." He reminded me so much of his nine-year-old self, looking so unsure of what he was doing.

"Thanks, Sev," I said softly, not having the heart to look away.

"Lily, d'you—d'you think we could ever go back to how we were?"

"I dunno. I can forgive you for what you called me, but you're hanging out with the wrong crowd. Do you think for a second that they'll be there for you when you fall?"

He winced, but didn't say anything.

"Sev, I can't be friends with you if you're friends with them. They hate me, all because of something I can't control," I added bitterly, reminded of Petunia.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "But that reminds me. You need to watch out. They're really angry with you."

"I'm not surprised," I said dryly. "Getting three of their number kicked out won't endear myself to them at all."

"No," he said, a soft smile on his face, "No, it won't. But I really am glad you fought them off. You have to know, I had no idea what they were planning."

"I know. It seemed more of a spur-of-the-moment thing to me. I really am lucky that Potter took care of Bellatrix for me."

"Wait—Potter saved you?" he asked, an intense look of dislike on his face.

"Yeah," I said, puzzled. "He took out Bellatrix."

I could practically hear Snape's teeth grinding together. "Why do you even care, anyway?" I asked.

He looked at me incredulously. "You really don't know?"

I shook my head. "You've hated him since we started school. But I don't think he's gotten in a fight with you recently..." I trailed off.

"Lily. All these years and you still don't know?" he asked, anguish on his face.

Something clicked. I remembered Snape's face whenever Potter would ask me out or profess his lust for me in the halls. I'd always thought Snape hated Potter because of the fights they got into, but what if it was something more? Those expressions I'd only caught glimpses of…

He'd been jealous.

Which could only mean…

"Lily," Snape whispered, taking a step closer to me. "I—"

"No. Don't say it." Words were permanent. You couldn't take them back. If he said what I thought he was going to say, I couldn't dismiss it. They'd be out there for the whole world to see and hear.

"Lily," he repeated.

"No," I moaned, pushing past him. I fled to the Head common room in a daze of tears. I threw my ingredients and bag on the table and collapsed in a chair, holding my head in my hands.

Why couldn't things be simple, like they were when I was nine? Why couldn't Snape be the way he was back then? I knew he was a decent person. He didn't care about blood status, didn't care about my background.

Why couldn't he be like that now?

Why did he have to love me?

I gave a deep, shuddering gasp at the thought. Because I knew without a doubt that he did. And it scared me.

As much as I pretended to ignore him, I still cared; there was no doubt about it. It broke my heart when I thought about the side he'd chosen. There was no way I could join him there.

He had to know that. He was fooling himself if he thought otherwise.

I winced at the memory of his face, spitting that horrible word at me. It stung me every day, knowing that he'd let the Death Eater's propaganda invade his mind.

Or had it always been there, waiting for the Death Eater's touch to expose it?

"Hey, you got our—oh."

"Yeah, I got it," I said thickly, wiping at my eyes.

"Everything all right?" he asked warily.

"No," I said, rearranging the potions bottles.

"Er—right." He stood awkwardly, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

I pulled my potion kit from under the table (where I'd stored it earlier, along with the potion book). I scanned the instructions and lit a fire under the cauldron, all the while steadfastly ignoring him.

"Can you hand me a dozen lacewing flies?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

He jumped a bit, then hastened to the jars. He scraped a handful out and piled them in my hand, watching me out of the corner of his eye. Did he think I was going to have a meltdown in front of him?

"I'm not going to explode, you know," I said, stirring the flies in.

"I didn't think you were," he protested in an entirely unconvincing tone.

Cue the raised eyebrow.

"Okay, fine. I'm not good with girls and tears."

"And you've been near lots of crying girls?"

"Okay, so it was only Mary MacDonald, but it was scary…" He trailed off, shuddering at the memory.

"Mary overreacts to everything. If you judge girls on that scale, you're going to receive more than a few slaps."

"Sorry. But you did go from crying to serious in about three-point-five seconds."

"It's called prioritizing. Would you rather me have a meltdown while trying to make Polyjuice Potion?"

"No. I'm just saying…"

"Your concern is noted, but unnecessary," I said, busying myself with more ingredients.

"Girls are weird," I heard him mutter as he scanned the potions list.

"And boys are gits."

"Are you referring to all males, or just me in particular?"

I debated this. "All males, I think. Boys are being stupid today."

"Why do I feel that something happened to kick-start this blind hatred?"

I said nothing, still stirring the potion.

"Want to talk about it?"

I almost laughed. "What makes you think I want to talk about anything? And even if I did, what makes you think that I'd want to talk to you?"

"Hey, I was just offering. Girls usually like to talk about their feelings and all that."

"Yeah, with their friends! Not their potions partners."

He sighed in relief. "Good, I thought I'd have to listen to you sob your eyes out."

"Then what was that in the hospital wing?" I cried indignantly. "You listened to me then!"

"Yeah, because that was something big and important. I have a feeling that whatever sob story is bothering you right now has something to do with a boy."

"Then why'd you even offer?"

His face screwed up as he thought. "I don't even know," he said finally, looking baffled. "But then, I never really know why I do half the things I do around you."

And on that enigmatic note, he left the common room.

What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean?

Then I realized that he'd left me to finish today's brewing.

Prat.

* * *

**A/N: Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Wow. It's been…ah…two months. Sorry. I blame my new fanfic. It's like a new infant. Demanding all of mommy's attention and all that. Plus, I don't really like where this is going. So…yeah. Sorry. And I have some more bad news. NaNoWriMo is five days away. And I will be using that month to work on my new fanfic (which is an epic of epic proportions). So this will be placed on the backburner for now. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That honor would go to J.K. Rowling. **

* * *

I didn't have a chance to ask Potter about the fluxweed until after Defense Against the Dark Arts the next day.

That day's class was a heavily anticipated one, as we were going to tackle Patronuses. We'd already covered the theory the class before, but had run out of time to actually try them, much to everyone's dismay. The class was buzzing in excitement when Professor Bell swept in the classroom, a dreamy expression on her face.

She was the new addition to the staff this year. I was trying to reserve judgment, but based off the handful of classes we'd already had, she was a…interesting teacher. She had a permanently dreamy look on her face, and she had a way of speaking that always managed to trail off at the end. Half the time her audience was waiting for an extra sentence that would never come. She had flyaway brown hair and wide blue eyes, like she was always peering at something. She wasn't my favorite teacher, but you had the feeling she knew what she was talking about.

"Now, as I'm sure you all remember, we will be discussing the Patronus Charm today…" she called out over the chatter. The class hushed instantly. "We have discussed the theory before…"

We nodded, trying to hurry her to the practical portion.

"The incantation in _Expecto Patronum_," she said, "and a happy memory is required for the charm to be successful. Now, for the practical…"

Most of us waited for her to finish, but she continued to look at us expectantly. After a few moments, we hesitantly broke up into groups and started practicing.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" Hestia cried, brandishing her wand. A puff of vapor exploded from her wand, dissolving almost instantly.

"A little happier, Hess," I smirked.

"You try it then," she challenged, putting her hands on her hips.

"Fine," I said, my bravado falling slightly. Despite my ribbing, I wasn't totally sure I could produce one.

"_Expecto Patronum_," I said calmly. A ribbon of opaque smoke threaded from my wand and remained in the air a few seconds longer than Hestia's had.

"See? You can't do it either!" she crowed.

"Mine was still better than yours."

Hestia had opened her mouth to respond when a silver dog wound itself around her legs, causing her to wobble a little. I looked to find the caster and spotted Black roaring with laughter, his wand pointing in our direction.

Hestia glared at him and aimed a ferocious kick at the dog in front of her. Black's Patronus dodged nimbly and soared across the room to land by his side.

"Ignore him," I muttered, tugging at her elbow. I raised my wand to distract her and closed my eyes, trying to focus. The image of Bellatrix rose up unbidden in my mind. I recalled the adrenaline and energy that had been flowing through my veins as I dueled. The ecstasy I'd felt, the sureness that I was making a difference, they all rushed back as if I was still in that dark hallway, fighting for my life. I knew this memory wasn't happy, per se, so I threw in an image of my father, beaming at me and stretching his arms out for a hug.

"_Expecto Patronum_."

A large, four-legged animal leaped from my wand tip, soaring through the air to land primly in front of me. A sleek doe met my gaze, staring straight at me.

"Ooooh," cooed Emmeline, "she's gorgeous!"

I beamed with pride at the animal around me, looking around the room to see if there were other Patronuses around. Some smoke and a few animals flew through the air, but my inspection was jolted to a halt when I met Potter's eyes. He was giving me a strange look, his brow furrowed. It was as if he was disturbed by my Patronus…but it was a doe. A female deer. You really can't get any less harmless.

"My turn," said Hestia, eager to try and show me up. She squinted her eyes ad brandished her wand. "_Expecto Patronum!_"

Her puff of smoke looked vaguely similar to her last try.

"Something happy, Hess."

"I'm trying!" she said desperately. "Black's mutt threw me off."

"Imagine hurting him or something," I suggested off the cuff. To my surprise, she obeyed. A maniacal grin grew on her face, and her next attempt at casting the spell was much more successful. A hyena was trotting around our circle when she opened her eyes.

Her lip curled upward. "Aren't they scavengers?"

"You obviously haven't seen yourself when you're on a rampage," I remarked dryly.

"And you love to laugh. And you're quite loud," Emmeline finally piped up.

"Fine, fine," she said, waving our comments away. She did look slightly happier.

"Your turn, Em," I said.

It took her five minutes of focusing to successfully cast the spell. A small little sparrow flew from her wand tip and orbited her head, looking very much like a feathery moon. Em didn't have any qualms regarding her Patronus, and beamed brightly as her bird flew around the room.

Twenty minutes later, the bell rang. I was almost out the door when Professor Bell called me back. I gestured for my friends to wait for me.

"That was quite an impressive Patronus you cast…" she said, peering at me with her large eyes.

"Thank you."

"Professor McGonagall tells me that you still have not chosen a profession…?"

"No, Professor."

Her eyebrows shot up, giving her an alarmed expression that looked out-of-place in the conversation. "Really? I should think it is obvious where your skill lies…"

I waited for her to continue, but she remained silent. "Professor, where…?" Great. Now I sounded like her.

"Oh, I cannot say. Choosing a future is best left to the one it belongs to. No…"

I waited again, but she'd turned to her paperwork. Feeling much more frustrated than I'd been entering the class, I walked out, nearly running into Hestia.

"Whoa, down girl," she teased, sobering once she caught my expression. "Okay, who drowned _your_ cat?"

"Apparently it's obvious what I should be doing with my life, and everyone can tell but me," I grumbled, stalking down the hall.

They hurried to catch up with me. "I'm sorry," Em sympathized. "Aren't the Professors supposed to guide us?"

"You'd think." I spotted Potter down the hall. "One second."

I left my friends behind and caught up with him. "Potter."

He turned and I saw a glimmer of surprise flash across his face. "Yes?"

"Fluxweed. I need it."

"I'll get it to you this weekend," he said impatiently, brushing me off.

"Not after the weekend, Potter! I need it by Sunday!" I called as he turned the corner. He disappeared without acknowledging me.

"Okay, am I the only one to find that really weird?" asked Hestia, her brow furrowed.

"No," said Emmeline, her expression identical.

"What'd you do to him?" asked Hestia, turning to me.

"What? Nothing!" I cried. "Why do you always assume that it's me who's done something?"

They said nothing, only raised their eyebrows.

"Okay, fine," I grumbled. "But I didn't do anything this time. He's being weird on his own."

"Isn't he always?" said Hestia.

"I need to talk to you two," said Emmeline suddenly. She looked very different than she had merely second before.

"Okay," I said, a bit startled. "What about?"

She fidgeted a bit before saying anything. "Am I a horrible person?"

"What?" I said, taken aback. "No!"

"Why?" asked Hestia, who'd come to a complete halt.

"I've been so self-absorbed this past week. When you were attacked, Lily, all I could think about was myself," she said quietly. "I've been so obsessed with Remus…" She broke off.

"Honey, you've been so quiet and altruistic that it was about time for a little narcissism," said Hestia.

"And this is the first boy you've ever really fancied," I said. "And while you may have gone a little overboard, I can understand why."

"I know I don't need a boy to be myself. I've been perfectly fine without one. But, sometimes it's nice to know that a boy thinks you're pretty. Or wouldn't mind spending time with you. I just got caught up in it all."

"And we'll let you know if it happens again," said Hestia.

"So you don't hate me?" she asked.

"No, we don't. We never did," I said, linking my arm through hers. Hestia took the other one, and we continued down the hall.

* * *

I was completely surprised by the appearance of the fluxweed on Saturday. I'd gone through my morning routine and was on my way to meet Em in the library when I walked past it on the coffee table. I literally had to back track. I stared down at it, blinking a few times before picking it up. It was fluxweed all right. Long, dark green stems with little orange buds on the end. It seemed fresh, too. I sniffed the top. I could still detect a floral, earthy scent, meaning it must have been picked the night before. How had he snuck out to retrieve it? It must have been difficult. Did this mean I owed him? Because I did not want to. Owing Potter usually meant receiving even more invitations to Hogsmeade.

Though…from the way he was acting, I wondered if he would pester me at all. When I'd asked for the grass, he'd brushed me off as if I were a rather irksome fly. Was he just annoyed that I'd kept reminding him about the grass? I was just trying to give our project the best chance of success.

I left the grass on the table and quickly left to tell Emmeline in the library that I'd be spending most of the afternoon working on my potion. The Head common room was still deserted when I returned, so I pulled out my cauldron and my potion kit. I was able to add most of the ingredients to it that day, as most of the potion-making required a month of brewing. I left the leeches and the boomslang skin to be added later, and set the cauldron in the corner, where I was sure it wouldn't be disturbed.

No sooner had I cleaned up then Potter entered the common room. He noticed the bubbling cauldron in the corner and the cleaning rag I was holding. "I could have helped, you know."

"I thought you were avoiding me," I said, wiping down the table for the last time.

"Now what would give you that impression?"

"Uh, let's see. Your face when you saw my Patronus, and your treatment of me after class."

He waved his hand. "Don't be so narcissistic. You aren't on my thoughts _that _much."

"You've made a point of telling me that I was for the past four years."

"And yet, I have decided to think about you much less this year."

"Is it working?"

"No." His cheerful admittance of this threw me off.

"Well, alright then," I said awkwardly, putting my cloth away. I was almost out the door when I turned around at the last second. "Thank you. For the fluxweed." I left before he could answer, feeling that I'd just made a huge mistake by thanking him.

"You did what?" hissed Hestia loudly, prompting a scowl from Madame Pince.

"Quiet, Hess, it's a library," I whispered. "And yes, I'm regretting it now."

"If you start showing civility to Potter, he might take it the wrong way."

"I am perfectly aware of that, thank you Hestia," I said through gritted teeth.

"I think it was decent of her," said Emmeline, sticking up for me.

"Of course you do, Little Miss Manners," said Hestia.

Emmeline stuck her tongue out, prompting Hestia to roll her eyes. As she did, she noticed something over my shoulder and quickly excused herself.

"That was…abrupt," I said as I watched her walk away. She ducked behind a bookshelf, and I knew immediately what was going on.

"A boy," Em and I said at the same time. There was no way Hestia would be looking for a book. If she'd wanted one, she would have sent one of us to go get it.

Our suspicions were confirmed minutes later as Hestia returned to our table, a new spring in her step.

"I've got a date with Danny next Hogsmeade weekend," she said proudly.

"Isn't that in three weeks?" Em asked.

"So?"

"It's a bit early to be asking, isn't it?" I said.

"It just means that he's been thinking about me, that's all," dismissed Hestia.

I didn't want to say what I was thinking, due to what had happened the last time I'd opened my big mouth. But Danny seemed a little too creepy to me, and asking this early was a little strange. I had a weird feeling in my gut that I just couldn't shake. Something—and I wasn't quite sure what—was off with him.

And I needed to find out before he hurt Hestia.

…Although, it would be more likely that Hestia would hurt him.

* * *

**A/N: This feels absurdly short. Maybe I'll post another chapter this weekend to make up for it. **

**Review please!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So, I think I have some groveling to do. I am so sorry this has fallen to the wayside. But I keep looking at my current project, then back at this, and I'm really not very happy with what I see. I may come back to this and do a complete rewrite at some point. Actually, I prolly will do that. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights to J.K. Rowling. **

* * *

I was discreetly following (read: stalking) Danny the next day when I heard frantic whispering behind a suit of armor to my right. I made a face and was about to pass by quickly when I realized that the voices in conversations were all-too-familiar.

"Are you sure he can do this?"

"No, I'm not, but he's the only one we've got, isn't he?"

"I'm just saying…"

"You were the one who wanted this whole bloody thing done to begin with! Don't you dare back out on me now!"

I tiptoed quietly to the left side of the armor, and bent down carefully. "Care to tell me what you two are doing down here?"

Potter and Black jumped violently and clocked heads before sprawling to the ground. I clapped a hand over my mouth to try and suppress my laughter.

"And just what the bloody hell was that for, Evans?" snarled Black, rubbing his forehead.

"A little subtlety _would_ be appreciated," said Potter, giving me an annoyed look.

"You would have done the same to anyone else," I pointed out.

They opened their mouths to protest, but I cut them off. "Argument aside, what _are_ you two doing?"

"Nothing," said Potter quickly.

"So you just met up here for a little afternoon rendezvous? How romantic," I quipped dryly.

"If you _must_ know," Black said, glaring at me, "we're spying on suspected Death Eaters. James wanted to investigate your attack."

I raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You don't think it was merely a hate crime?"

"It'd be easier if it was," said Potter heavily. He caught the look on my face and quickly added, "Because that would probably be it. Bam, we beat them, they're gone, that's that. But I think it's a part of a larger plan. At the very least, something else is going on. Why would they attack in Hogwarts? Surely they knew that they'd be caught. It doesn't seem like a very bright plan."

"Since when is that crowd known for being bright?"

"You'd be surprised," said Black darkly. I opened my mouth to question him, but the look on Potter's face closed my mouth in a hurry.

"So, we decided—"

"_You_ decided," cut in Black.

"_I_ decided to dig a little deeper."

I crossed my arms. "And how exactly are you doing that?"

"Him." James pointed down the hall at a small figure standing with a group of Slytherins.

I squinted, trying to make him out. "Regulus? You're using Black's little brother?"

Both boys nodded. "We talked to him, and he agreed to look into what was going on. Mind you, he's not doing it for us. Only you. Says he liked how you stuck up for Snivellus," Black said, a disgusted look on his face. "He always was a little funny in the head, that one."

He yelped as I kicked him in the shin. "Be nice," I warned.

"She's a charmer, Prongs, I'll give you that one," he said wryly.

Potter's cheeks flushed slightly. "Evans, d'you mind moving down the hall? You'll give away our position."

"Oh, believe me, I'm not the one who'll be giving you away," I said, eyeing the two of them. They were completely engrossed in watching the younger Black that they seemed to have forgotten I was even there. Sighing, I moved away, belatedly realizing that I'd lost Danny.

This is what you get for talking to the Marauders. Or, half of them at least.

I gave up on my mission (for now, at least) and was returning to the Head common room when I turned a corner and ran into someone coming the other way.

"Merlin, I'm sorry," I said as I scrambled to collect the books that had fallen out of my victim's bag. I looked up and found myself looking at Maddy Starr, a Ravenclaw whom I didn't talk to very often. "I wasn't really looking where I was going."

"Me neither," she said with a rueful smile. "Well, no harm done. I'll see you later, Lily." She double-checked that she'd gotten all her belongings before starting down the hall behind me.

I almost turned to corner before inspiration struck. Maddy was a Ravenclaw. She'd have more access to Danny than I would. I knew I could trust her to be discreet. Why not?

"Maddy? Hey, Maddy!" I called as I ran after her.

She turned and gave a quizzical look as I skidded to a stop. "Can I help you?"

"I think you can," I said. "You don't have to help me if you don't want to, and I completely understand if you don't want to, but you'll really help me if you agree. Well, you'll be helping a friend, which I guess through extension will be helping me—"

"Stop, stop!" she said, laughing at my rambling. "I can't agree if I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right, sorry. You know Danny Goldstein?"

Maddy's expression became guarded and she nodded warily.

"Well, my friend Hestia fancies him, and they're going out to Hogsmeade together. Trouble is, I don't trust him. I have this weird feeling about him, but I don't know what it is. I can't tell Hestia to stay away from him, because you know how she is." Hestia's temper was well-known throughout the school. "I need proof before I confront her. Or him, for that matter. So, I was hoping you could keep an eye on him and help me out? You know, just let me know if he does or says something strange."

She was silent for a moment, and I began to fear that she wouldn't help me. Finally, she said, "Oh, I'll help all right. I can't stand the bloke."

I grinned. "Thank you so much." I had started to turn when she said, "I can tell you some things right now."

That caught my attention in a hurry.

"He's a terrible flirt, but that's not really incriminating by itself. It's his disposition, really, that makes me nervous. He's very matter-of-fact, very cold and calculating. He thinks of people as factors in an equation, rather than souls. He'd sooner abandon his friends than be caught on the losing team. _That's_ what scares me about him."

I felt goosebumps on my arms, and I purposely kept my tone calm as I responded. "Well. That's helpful. Can you still keep an eye on him for me?"

She nodded. "Now, I need to go. I'm meeting someone soon." I watched her walk down the hall before turning away. This would solve my problem about what to do with Danny. I was sure that she would find something I could present to Hestia, and when I did, Hess would have no choice but to believe me.

"Hestia gotten herself into a spot of trouble, then?" came the voice of Black, still behind the suit of armor.

Without even looking, I pulled my wand out from my robes and flicked it toward the armor. It started swaying ominously before collapsing in a heap. Black and Potter yelped loudly, and struggled as they tried to free themselves from the metal pile.

"Oh, and boys?" I called behind me. "I think you've just given away your position."

* * *

I was almost disappointed in the lack of news, from both the Marauders and Maddy, but I had to remind myself that some things just take time. Of course, that really didn't help the part of me that was dying to know what was going on.

Screw "curiosity killed the cat". I wasn't worried about what I might find out. I was more worried about the actual curiosity killing me.

It was excruciating.

Em and Hestia noticed something was up. It would be hard not to, what with my constant fidgeting and now-microscopic attention span (which wasn't even that impressive before).

"What's going on?" asked Hess finally, while we were studying for a Charms quiz.

"Nothing," I said, inwardly wincing at how unbelievable I sounded.

"Wow," said Hestia. "You are a _supremely_ bad liar."

"I'm fine," I said defensively. "Maybe I'm just worried about McGonagall's threats regarding what I'll do after Hogwarts."

They accepted this, as it did seem like a plausible answer. Which, when I thought about it, it was.

Damn. Now I was worrying about _that_, too.

My restlessness even managed to tip Potter off. He approached me one afternoon while I was brewing and said," Okay, you've been acting really off these past few weeks. Is everything all right?"

My "yes" stuck in my throat. I hadn't been able to be honest with my friends (they'd get worried about the Slytherins and angry over Danny) and I was tired of lying. I knew I could be honest with Potter, as he never really cared what I thought, even when I was yelling insults to his face.

"No, I'm not. I'm terrified that I'll be attacked whenever I'm out at night, I'm trying to find out what's up with Hestia's scumbag boyfriend, I have no idea what I'm doing after Hogwarts, my ex-best friend confessed his love for me, and I have this bloody difficult project to do. So, really, I'm not fine."

Nearly everything I said flew over Potter's head, except the only thing I hadn't wanted him to hear. "Snape loves you?" He looked murderous.

I cursed. "I shouldn't have said that."

"That prat? After what he did to you?"

"He never actually said it, if that helps," I said.

"It doesn't."

"Didn't think so." I stopped suddenly. "Why the hell do you even care? We're not friends anymore. I haven't seen him since…" I trailed off.

"I just…" Potter struggled for words. "I care."

Once again, his honestly caught me off guard. "Why?" I blurted out.

He lifted as eyebrow.

"Why do you care about me? Why, after I've hexed you and yelled at you? After I've turned you in and ignored you all these years? Why would you care? I'm not _that_ great a person."

My attempt at humor fell flat. "I know," he said seriously. "But then, none of us really are, are we?"

I blinked. "What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

He shrugged lazily and ambled out of the common room. I watched him leave, not even sure what to say next. Why did he always say things like that? Last year—hell, even last month—I would've immediately said that he was doing it to get under my skin. To rile me up.

But now…now I wasn't so sure. It was like he was saying what he really thought, and didn't care if I heard it. In part, it scared me a little. To think that he was now being totally honest with me. What if he said something I didn't want to hear? What if he said something he couldn't take back? That I couldn't forget?

_Why do you even care?_ asked a little voice in the back of my head.

I didn't. At least…I didn't think I did.

Since when had I gotten to the point where I cared what Potter said?

* * *

I was late. Dear, sweet Merlin, I was late.

At least it was only Potions class. I could smile at Slughorn, pretend I'd been so diligently working on my project, and he'd pardon me.

But still. It was the mere feeling of being late. I couldn't stand it.

I flew around a corner and almost ran into someone coming the other way. I slammed on the brakes and only just managed to avoid hitting the person.

Who, it turned out, happened to be Peter Pettigrew.

I blinked in surprise. "Peter! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

"It's fine," he waved it away. "No harm done."

"Right." I smiled at him. "I haven't seen you around, Pete. Everything going okay?" I always took time to talk to Peter when I could. Something about him reminded me of this little boy that used to live in my street. He was always so quiet, and I could tell that he'd wanted to play with me and my sister. I'd invited him over, but one look at Petunia's glare sent him running. Whenever I looked at Pete, I saw that small boy who only wanted someone to talk to.

"Everything's fine," he said. "Aren't you supposed to be in Potions?"

"Dammit. Yes, I am." I'd almost taken off again when something clicked. "Pete, you dropped Potions last year. Why are you in the dungeons?"

That seemed to throw him off. His brow furrowed, and he licked his lips nervously. "I'm, uh, waiting on the others. To get out."

"Class just started," I said slowly.

"It did? Oh, right. It did. Well, I guess I'll be seeing you…" He hurried past me and disappeared around the corridor.

Well, that was weird. I wondered if…I couldn't even finish the thought. Peter had a tendency to be a little skittish. That didn't mean anything strange was going on. Maybe I was getting a little paranoid after the attack.

Besides, I had enough on my plate.

* * *

**A/N: I'm so sorry I have to do this, but this is going on an indefinite hiatus. I didn't really think everything through when I started, and things just aren't turning out the right way. I've grown a lot as a writer since starting my main project, and I want that to translate into this stry as well. I will at some point go back and do a big re-write, but I cannot tell when that might be. So I won't string you guys along in the meantime. **

**And now for a shameless bit of self-promoting: If any of you are Avatar: The Last Airbender fans, I'd suggest you check out my story Honor Among Thieves. It's going to be an epic of epic proportions, and I update once every 2-3 weeks. And trust me, this will never go on hiatus. **

**Again, so sorry to do this, but I think it's the best decision for all of us. Thank you for your support!**


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